


Men of Red

by Dragon_Mage



Series: Don't Cross Mercenaries [2]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Murder, Psychological Torture, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Transgender Characters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2017-10-05
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:11:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 45
Words: 171,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6588934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_Mage/pseuds/Dragon_Mage
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The mercenaries have been doing this old song and dance for how many decades? Mrs. Pauling has stepped in with a new team to help make some improvements. But, things are not quite what the mercenaries were expecting. Secrets and lies about Mann Co are going to unfold faster than Pauling can keep up with.<br/>The Mann family has a history of secrets and lies. But as their tangled web gets tangled around Pauling's fingers, they might have to resort to new plans. At the heart of this all lies Gray Mann and his own plans and lies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Meet the REDs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miss Pauling is introducing a new team to the team, in hopes of improving their teamwork. Nobody's listening. Except Spy.

Miss Pauling stood before the mercenaries with the clipboard in hand. They were lined up and somewhat ready to listen. Spy had his usual cigarette holding his attention, with the most aloof sort of attitude. Scout was trying to catch her attention with a quirky smile on his face. Heavy was twiddling his thumbs, still just as awkward about his poor English as the day they first met. The medic was looking over something on his own clipboard, probably notes for a procedure he wanted to do. Pyro was distracting themselves with a lighter, which the Engineer tried desperately to get away from him. The demolition man was looking haggard and worse for wear, swaying on his feet. Soldier stood at attention, but knowing him, he would not actually listen to her words appropriately. And then there was sniper, who stood with a lounging casual slump to his body that he carried with himself everywhere.

These were her mercenaries in a sense. Just as much as every other team, they were under her strict supervision. In this sense, she had to know about all of their issues and disorganization. That did not make it any easier to get them organized and listening to her.

“Listen up! This is important!” she tried to summon their attentions.

This managed to gain their attentions for about two seconds, before they went back to the way they were before. Even the spy, who was always the gentleman, turned his attention to the burning embers of his cigarette. If training served him well, he was actually the only one listening intently to her speech.

“So we will be bringing the other team in on Thursday, so I want you all on your best behavior!” she was announcing when Engineer’s head whipped around.

“Other team?” he had an astonished look behind those goggles, his brows raised. To the side of him, the pyro was taking advantage of the distraction to light up a sheet of paper.

“Yes, we have other teams working in other parts of the country too,” she nodded slowly, “In a couple other parts of the world actually.”

A couple of them brought their attentions to her and gaped. The medic seemed to guffaw at the mere idea of it. He was speechless.

“I coulda been working in some other part of the world,” the spy growled, with disdain.

He always kept up this air of hatred towards anything American, mostly because of all of the small towners he met and the soldier’s ignorance. Pauling and the Administrator knew very well that while the man did not like the culture, he loved being in America, if only just to get away from Europe. He felt high and mighty, the cultured man with more knives up his sleeve with his cunning wit matched with his knowledge of the world.

Engineer grumbled something incoherent, scratching at the back of his head. He reached over to put his hand on Pyro’s hand, forcing his lighter shut. He kept his attention on Pauling though.

“What exactly are they supposed to be doing? Are we being replaced?” he asked.

“What?” Scout proclaimed, astonished at the suggestion, “You can’t be serious!”

“We’re not replacing anybody,” Pauling noted, looking back to her clipboard. It was difficult to care about telling them the rest when they weren’t paying attention.

“Good then, what the hell- I mean uh…” Scout seemed to catch himself up on something, “What is it that they’re supposed to be doing…here?”

“These new teammates will be here between four weeks to ten months, depending on how long improvement takes,” she explained.

“Improvement?” several mercenaries perked up at what they heard only half of.

“The Administrator wants to see improvements-” Pauling was quickly cut off by the soldier’s loud voice.

“I will improve those maggots until they cannot find themselves the will to live!” he bellowed with a defiantly proud voice.

“Very good, but no,” Pauling looked up from her notes to see that they were already starting to talk amongst themselves.

“A protégé!” the Medic’s face stretched into a hauntingly gleeful smile.

“More of like a partner,” Engineer shook his head. The Pyro added something that was muffled in his mask.

“We could use an intern around,” the Medic nodded thoughtfully.

“You ain’t even met them yet,” the sniper shook his head, “They are likely just as ruthless of killers as we.”

“Even better!” Medic’s voice pitched with a gleeful tone.

“What? What ‘appened?” the demoman jolted, coming back to attention.

“I don’t think we’ll have much to worry about if they’re going to be teammates, so we should just settle down and hear out Miss Pauling,” the Engineer tried to grab their attentions for her, but to no avail. His own attention was quickly deterred when Pyro got his lighter free and darted off to light his paper.

Spy rolled his eyes, motioning to Pauling, “Please continue so that we can at least say something of value was done today.”

She cleared her throat, nervous about her audience of one. Somehow addressing spy alone was awkward, probably because of all of the shouting men, whose voices quickly became a racket that moved towards the rec room.

“This team will be moving in on Thursday to begin working on the team on Friday,” she explained, “They will be taking the North Upstairs wing. From Thursday, none of the mercenaries of this team are to enter that area, Administrator’s orders.”

“Anything else?” Spy pressed. He seemed to already know that there was one last catch, one last hook, at the end of this.

Pauling sighed, “It’s not their team being improved…it’s yours.” She shifted her glasses on her nose and looked up at spy.

He seemed unaffected, as he took a long drag from his cigarette, “Very good.”

“You’re not mad?” she asked, a little sheepishly. Perhaps a little too sheepishly in front of such a cunning mercenary.

He quickly turned to her, before softening his facial expression, “Non. This team has become worse for wear. It could use better blood to strengthen it.”

She sighed, surprised that she had been holding her breath. She had been doing this for near five decades and the spy still made her a twinge nervous. Even after everything they had been through, she was still a bit unsteady around the masked man.

“It has been a pleasure,” he spoke politely before dismissing himself from the room.

“Yea…it has,” she took a deep breath.

She glanced at a window where she could see her reflection. She looked as young as twenty five still. It was a wonder she did not have worry lines after all of the years of doing this stressful job. In the end, as long as they kept the men in charge alive, they could keep themselves alive.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The train ride was long and tiring. The bothersome ache in the lower back made the Medic cringe. This was going to be a problem, especially with new beds ahead of them. One glance across the aisle told the Medic that the heavy was losing their patience with the steady sway of the train, and wanted to get off. Beside the long-legged muscular woman sat the Engineer, whose cheeks turned red as she sank into thought about the game of chess before her.

It had been so long since the last move that the Medic nearly dozed off. It took the gentle nudging of the seat-mate to wake the groaning Medic. It was tempting to dismiss oneself for a nap.

“We shouldn’t sleep now, or we won’t sleep with all the excitement at the base,” the Engineer spoke softly, a humming slur of Irish tones. She was always poignant with something to say about the Medic, knowing everything that Medic needed to hear.

“Yea,” Medic sighed, in a huff.

The Pyro nudged again, pointing to the window. When the Medic looked, there was a herd of camels loping along the fence line. Medic simply nodded in surprise to find camels of all creatures in the middle of America.

Pyro clapped her gloved hands together and made a gleeful noise. It was all muffled behind the mask, but Medic gave a guess that she was saying “kakkoi” or “kawaii” in response to how cute or how cool she thought the camels were.

A magnetic chess piece was moved and the Engineer huffed a sigh, “Alright, your turn.”  
With an apathetic sigh, Medic turned back to the board. There was not much to do, as Engineer was moving the way Medic had predicted. They used the logic being used and moved rather quickly.

The Irishwoman gave Medic a narrow glare behind her glasses, “You’re cheating me, doc.”

“No I’m not,” Medic motioned to the board, “I’ve done nothing illegal.”

“You’re not focusing,” Engineer argued, “This is supposed to be strategy. Keep us on our top game for the meeting!”

“The meeting,” Medic sighed.

There was nothing to begrudge yet. They had yet to meet their fellow REDs from the desert called Bad Lands. It sounded like nothing they had experienced in the Colorado Rocky Mountains though, where the cold harsh weather kept them huddled and wild animals kept them both fed and terrified.

What was more terrifying were the teams of BLUs. Up until a few years ago, they only fought against other women. Then there was some sort of law passed and they decided to change things up. The BLUs had removed their female fighters almost entirely. There were a few here and there, but they were always overwhelmed by the sheer number and force of their male comrades.

There was nothing more frightening than those fierce male Medics, with wide grins that spread creases of their eyes into something devious. With blood spatters and bone saw in hand, Medic had met a match more than once upon the battlefield.

How they all managed to survive and even outdo the male fighters was barely within their grasp. Engineer calculated that it was because they were not fighting as efficiently as they could be. Medic had taken the initiative to double down on their efforts to be more efficient in the face of more ruthless adversaries.

“Hmmm…” Engineer glanced out the window to gawk at the camels, who had been stopped by the end of their fencing.

Pyro nudged Medic again. Medic looked over to see the Pyro making symbols, then laying her mask against her hands. She seemed to have a question but Medic was growing too tired in the mind to ponder it without asking.

“I’m not up for charades today,” Medic replied.

Pyro clicked on the walkie talkie on their belt and through the static noise came a question in Japanese, “Are you okay? You’re tired? Would you like to go lay down and sleep?”

Medic responded out of instinct in Japanese, “No I’m fine. The Engineer is right that we should stay alert until the meeting. We need to sleep well tonight.”

The Pyro nodded and clicked the walkie talkie off. That was all she needed to hear. So she turned her attention back to watching the Engineer think.

There was something adorable about the way the Pyro fawned over the Engineer, for multiple reasons. For one, Pyro trusted nobody other than Medic to see her out of her suit. She hid behind the mask with many phobias covered by society’s fear of her. And it was simply delightful to watch the Irishwoman blindly oblige her at every turn, unaware of the younger woman’s delight in her attention.

 

*********************************************************************

 

When the train finally arrived, Spy adjusted his tie. He would look only his best for his new teammates. Everyone did believe that first impressions were important, and he would make this one good. He would show them that in spite of his team, he was the best of the best spies, even after 50 years of the same tiring work.

“Welcome to New Mexico!” Miss Pauling announced, pre-emptively.

As the doors slid open, they were greeted by a slow but steady stream of women that came out with their suitcases and bags. Spy gawked at their merc attire, standard issue from RED. They were all, each and every one of them, female.

“Welcome!” Miss Pauling seemed to coo.

He took notice of that. Miss Pauling did not delight in the mercenaries of his team like she used to. She seemed less and less friendly with them, even when they were absolutely friendly to her. Yet here she was, bubbly with delight at the sight of these new mercs. But whether it was because they were new or female, or perhaps even both, he was not sure.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” the Engineer asked, giving him a solid nudge with an elbow.

Spy grunted with distaste at the gesture, “Non, I’ve kept my eyes closed this whole time.”

Sarcasm did not deter the Texan, as stepped forward and removed his hard hat, “Howdy ladies! I’d like to welcome you as well to our little part of New Mexico.”

There was some form of charm that had lit up in the Texan, bubbling just beneath the surface. It made Spy groan as he realized that the man was already taking a charming liking to these female mercenaries. Spy would turn on the charm eventually, but he was not one to underestimate a merc based on the curves of their bodies.

“The Spy?” a woman’s voice spoke up in French.

He lit up with delight in his own language to turn to the woman. He was about to respond, ready to charm what would probably a very charming female spy. But, he came face to face with a short, lanky, brunette with a ball cap and baseball bat.

She popped her gum, her eyes lighting up, “So like every other team’s got a Frenchie for a Spy huh?” She started laughing, though she seemed more delighted to be speaking French more than anything else.

“Ahem!” a voice caught their attentions, snapping them around.

They looked to a blond woman with rectangular glasses, which perched low on her nose. Her blue eyes took them in with a quick sweep, before she turned to Miss Pauling. “We should get going, Miss Pauling. There is not much energy left in us for much more than introductions.”

Pauling nodded and led the way to the vehicles, Engineer’s truck and Spy’s car. Pauling climbed in with Engineer, with most of the mercs climbing into the bed of the truck with their things.

Spy was surprised to find that it was the blond woman who took the passenger seat of his car. A stout redhead and the little Pyro took the back. They were all very quiet, as they waited for the car to move. They did not even greet him, which bothered him a little.

He decided to wait a while, since the blond herself had mentioned that they did not have much energy to expend. They had had a long trip, and it was likely they wanted to get to where they were going before expelling that energy on introductions.

He followed Engineer along the road, letting himself slip precarious glances sidelong. He was not sure what to make of these women. He was not sure what the blond was supposed to be, dressed up in a man’s waist coat with a gold chain linking to a pocket. He was certainly not sure why the Pyro sat in the middle with her body pushing up against the stouter woman.

Then his eyes caught the shimmer in his rear view mirror. They widened for a moment and the figure appeared. Luscious golden curls fell down her shoulders, shaking with her body as she chuckled with delight in his surprise.

“You found me,” a Russian accent rolled of her tongue like honey dew, “What a good spy you must be.”

He turned his attention back to the road, but he did not have to snap at her. Surprisingly, the woman in his passenger seat turned to scorn her.

“Don’t waste energy on foolish pranks! We are not here to pull jokes and make enemies. We are here with new teammates. Now act like you’re a teammate!” she snapped, with fervor in her voice.

The woman let the smoke out of her nose, but said nothing. She turned her eyes to the road outside of her window instead. He kept a wary eye on her though. He would not underestimate his new teammate for being female.

When they pulled up to the base though, he felt it was going to be a long and complicated talk with the others. When he got out of the car, he started helping with their bags, but all the while he was lost in thought. All of this time, Miss Pauling knew they were women but did not think to warn any of them.

Of course, now he understood why the North Upstairs wing was forbidden to them from here on. There would be boundaries after all. Yet he wondered for how they might fair working together.

So when they finally came to the meeting, he was not too surprised by the stunned silence. At the head of the table stood Miss Pauling. Along one side of the table sat most of the female mercenaries. A few of them seemed unnerved and remained standing behind them. All of the male mercenaries aside from Spy and Scout were too afraid to sit. They just gawked at the sight of nine women in mercenary outfits, like they were halfway through a strip tease.

“So as I said before,” Miss Pauling was repeating all of the things that she had gone over before, still meeting mostly deaf ears, “The new team is here for improvements, gentlemen. We expect to see results.”

She paused, looking at the two awkward sides. It did not look like she knew how to handle this kind of situation. That was, until she motioned for them to mesh together, “Go on! Intermingle! Greet each other!”

There was a shuffle of uncertainty behind Spy. He could hear his comrades growing anxious and uncertain. They had not been faced with such a situation in decades, and being only elbow to elbow with men had made them quite foreign to females.

“I’m Scout,” the boy sitting beside him blurted, leaning over the table with one hand extended, “Nice ta meet ya!”

It was not directed at anybody in particular, but several of them seemed a bit skittish. They almost seemed like they did not trust such a hand to be shaken. But that blond who rode in the car beside him leaned forward and took it first.

She paused to push her glasses up the bridge of her nose, “Pleasure is ours.”

After a long while, each of the men started introducing themselves by class. One by one, they took up the chance to make a good impression, only to make themselves seem more like awkward, filthy, backwoods creatures. They had not brushed up on recent dialects or mannerisms, making everything they did seem even more outlandish to these women.

From what Spy could tell, these woman were already judging them and combing through their mannerisms with disgust.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you all,” the blond’s hair bobbed as she rose from her seat. It was then that he noticed her proud stance beneath that short crop of hair, which sharp tones of blue. “I am the Medic,” she stated, placing a fist to her chest.

Almost instantly a spout of laughter came up from behind the Spy. He felt frightened to think of who was laughing. He might forgive it if it was Scout, but the boy had a ludicrous look on his face, as he looked over his shoulder to see who it was. When Spy dared to peer back, he found that it was their own Medic who was laughing.

The woman cleared her throat, “I see our team is met with…disconcerting jests?”

The Pyrotechnician reached over to tap the Medic’s shoulder, calling her attention back to her team. The Pyro was making symbols, obviously wanting to leave the room.

“Not right now,” the Medic raised a calming hand.

The stout redhead toddled forward and her voice let out a sweet Irish lull, “I’m the Engineer. But, you can call me Shelly.” She reached over to pat the Pyro, who looked mournful to be stuck in place there. “This here is the Pyro, but she’s not good with words in front of strangers.”

The Medic nodded, “Yes, and the rest of our team.” She tried summoning forward her team, but they gave little effort.

“Perhaps…” Spy interrupted, feeling that it was time he intervened, lest something worse than the Medic’s laughter occurred, “Now is not the time for introductions. You have had a long trip and could use rest. We can resume introductions in the morning. Oui?”

The group of women looked relieved, relaxing their statures. He glanced at his comrades as he rose from the chair. They were mostly flabbergasted at what was going on before them.

The Medic swooped around the table, striding towards the taller German man. He straightened his back in response, looking down his nose at her, in the condescending way he met with everybody for the first time.

“That reminds me, given we’ve only met, I feel the best greeting for a Medic is a preliminary check of all mercenaries’ health and wellbeing, yea?”

There was a long pause, before the doctor dawned his eerie wide grin. Any normal man would have cringed at the sight. Even Spy had to shiver at such a sight, and it was not even directed at him. Yet, he noted that the woman was not phased, staring directly back into his eyes with an apathetic stare.

“Wunderbar!” the Medic proclaimed with excitement, “That’s a great idea!”

Several moans came from both groups of REDs. Nobody spoke up in protest though. He doubted anybody dared to do so.

“I expect to see everybody waiting at the infirmary doors by 0700 tomorrow morning!” the blond spun as she announced this, charging out ahead of a limping Engineer, to whom the Pyro clung for dear life.

The other women followed behind them, before the men slowly dissipated from the room. Spy was the second to last, until Miss Pauling pulled at his gloved hand.

“Oui?” he responded in instinct.

“Thanks for making an effort, Spy,” she squeezed his hand, “They might not look like they’re much, but they’ve outlasted several BLU teams up in the Colorado Rockies. They’re going to do wonders for this team.”

“I am looking forward to it,” he patted her hand with his free hand, before she released him to retreat to his smoking room to think.


	2. Physical Examinations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medic gives physical examinations to their team, as well as the resident team members - all with that German lingering over their shoulder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not going to do the phonetic accents. It does not make a lot of sense in the written form of English. I will use descriptors to identify accents and lingual slurs. I will only use strange words here and there, with some form of explanation.

Medic shuddered as they rushed to get the underclothes off and the soft pajamas on. Soft snuggly pajamas greeted them with that familiar smell so they could clamber into bed. But it was not the cold nor the unfamiliarity of this place that caused them to shiver.

What caused the shiver was the perturbing feeling that the first impressions of the Medic did not go well. His choice of first impression was to laugh, drawing their attention to him without so much as a word spoken. That terrifyingly wide smile had crept up on his face like he could read faces, like he knew.

Shaking away the thought did little to ease the mind as the light went out. At least the North Upstairs wing was roomy. Each mercenary was provided with their own room. The desert air, though cold at night, provided them with enough heat to feel safe sleeping alone. There had been some nights in Colorado where they had had to sleep in multiples, just to stay warm.

It felt nice to sleep in one’s own bed. But the loneliness crept up and an image of that face reappeared. It was haunting. It brought up memories of past taunts from Medics, who had turned their attention from healing their wounded and dying teammates to making a cat mouse game out of the female team’s Medic.

It was not unbeknownst to the Medic that it all came back to the dynamic. Down here, these men seemed gruff and uncertain of women, but that was because they only fought with and beside men. Up in the mountains, those men had become accustomed to the idea of hearing a woman scream in terror and pain, and enjoy every moment of it.

At least there was one small ray of hope. It was a sapling of sweetness in this group of thug-like men. The Spy was explicitly charming, even when he did not mean to be, and quiet when he knew others needed him to be.

 

*********************************************************************

 

A raging roaring voice had startled the Engineer. She was about to hear her alarm when that roaring American came pounding towards the stairs. He did not halt where he was supposed to. He did not stay out of the boundaries of the North Upstairs wing. This started to trouble her a little, so she hastened to dress, lest she got caught in an all-too-showy night gown.

One boot went on and then she barged at the door. She had heard him coming and was ready to take him down. He had a bugle horn to his mouth when his gut came to meet her fist. He let out a loud grunt of pain before he was flopped backwards and onto the floor.

“We are already preppin’ lad, don’t test me!” she barked with irritation.

She return to her room to put the faux boot over the prosthetic leg. She tucked the pant leg into the boot, just to keep the prosthetic from showing. When she was finished, she stomped out to go find Medic.

She found Medic in their bedroom, folding their pajamas and placing them neatly on the bed for later use. The Medic was a tediously precise person, with disciplined mannerisms that came from a heritage of U.S. Marines and Asian culture.

“That soldier came barreling down the hallway,” the Medic noted.

“Do ya think he’s as bad as the others at taking orders?” Shelly chuckled, with a sly grin.

The Medic pursed their lips, “Ours isn’t that bad. He’s at least rather polite off the battlefield.”

“Ah…yea…” Shelly paused to scratch at her neck. She often forgot about their own soldier, as the frequently absent minded soldier could slip past anybody’s radar for being so vacant.

“Any who, please go check on Pyro, I am going downstairs to check on breakfast preparations,” Medic placed reading glasses on their face.

Shelly shook her head, “Why do ya wear them if your eyes aren’t bad?”

The Medic blinked at her, “I’m constantly reading, Shelly.” The Medic ushered her out and then paused to lock the door. “Medicine bottles, directions, signs, paperwork, etcetera…I cannot afford to lose these. And if they are not on my face, they might as well be lost.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Shelly chuckled, “I’ll see you downstairs then.”

She made her way down to the Pyro’s room, where she was sure the girl had holed herself up. She did not like being alone, but both Shelly and Medic had needed that once night of finally sleeping on their own. It was peaceful for them, though perhaps not so much for the Pyro.

She knocked gently, “Ya in there, girl?”

There was relative silence, until a tentative sound unhinged a lock on the inside of the door. It creaked open slowly, allowing only enough space for her to slip her hand through. She pushed the door open wide enough to fit her stout body, letting herself inside to greet the Pyro.

She was surprised to find the Pyro already dressed. Stocked up to the head in fire resistant uniform, she looked ready to snatch the day. It made Shelly feel like she had fallen behind a bit in regards to preparations.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The Medic came to find two men preparing breakfast, the Engineer and the Demo. They were both mumbling about their preparations, just audible enough for one another to hear. Greasy pans were frying up eggs, what appeared to be bacon and some other assortment of food.

Medic made a mental note of the greasy quality of the food, before grabbing themselves a piece of fruit to chomp on along the way to the infirmary. It was not difficult to find, so they were not halfway through the apple when they found the male Medic pouring over stacks of paperwork on his desk. Or at least, that appeared to be what he was doing.

“Ah! Mein new teammate in science!” he declared, a gleeful smile crossing his face.

They were taken aback by that. The night spent ruminating on the first impression had led Medic to feel that this man would certainly dislodge their position as Medic, assert himself over the entirety of the group, and continue to throw that condescending look their way. It was refreshing that this was not the case.

“I have been preparing the files, and reading over your…assessments,” he motioned to the stacked violet folders that Medic recognized.

“You will find them thorough, if you want most recent assessments though, just look to the top papers,” Medic explained, tossing away the fruit core.

“Ja,” was his response, “It was easy to find. I see they are all assessed to be healthy, but you never know what could be missed.”

Medic hesitated, before nodding in response, “This is true and thus why a new assessment is necessary before we move forward with both teams as one.”

A long and awkward silence followed, until Medic cleared their throat. He looked up, studying their stance with careful indecision.

“Since we will be working together, perhaps we should exchange names, to make things easier?” they offered.

He responded with a blink, “If that makes you feel better, fräulein.”

The response caused their lip to twitch, a muscle by the nose raising. Medic did not know what that word meant, being completely unfamiliar with the German language. It was a tongue they had never decidedly studied. However, Medics used this word often in taunting. He was taunting them.

They stiffened, “If that is the nickname you’d choose then I’ll give you my own.”

He chuckled, shaking his head, “That was not my intention but alright.”

He turned his head to them, waiting for their response. They paused, rubbing the knuckle of an index finger against their chin. They pondered carefully for the right way to describe the man standing before them, without surpassing some line.

They smirked, with a snap of their fingers, “Touhenboku.”

“What?” he blinked at them, confusedly.

“Touhenboku,” their smile only grew a little, straining against the urge to laugh. Irony of calling somebody an idiot to their faces while they did not understand it took off the edge of the laugh.

“Doesn’t seem like a nickname,” he stated, “Very long.”

“It’ll suit you,” Medic let their smile fade, as they strolled over to have a look at their own files. While they were by the desk, they glanced at the clock, seeing that it was ten until 7am.

“Hope they finish with breakfast quickly,” they said, with a slight frown, “I did state 0700.”

“That you did,” he chuckled, as if he gathered some form of glee from that thought.

Medic hummed with thought, strolling towards the doors. When they opened them, they found that several of their teammates had already arrived. Each was dressed in a standard issue t-shirt and shorts, with hair pulled back, as if prepped for a workout. Pyro was the only exception, with her entire fire suit on.

“We getting started or what?” Scout asked eagerly, seated in the seat nearest to the door. The young woman did like to be the first to everything, even if it was what she would call a “pointless endeavor.”

“Wait a while for the others,” Medic glanced around, but there were no men in the assembly, only some female teammates.

“Most are still licking their plates clean,” the Engineer spoke up from her seat. She shifted to get more comfortable, bringing some unwanted attention to the booted prosthetic leg.

“Shelly, I’m gonna ask you to remove the boot when you get in here. Why don’t you take it off now?” Medic offered.

“Yea, sure. Alright doc,” Shelly got to work on the laces of her boot.

Medic turned to Pyro and licked their lips. The Pyro was not known to come out of their suit for just anybody, so they would have to ask every other person to leave the room. It would have to be a private physical. Perhaps the doctor had a storage room connected to the infirmary they could use to check on them.

Medic retreated into the infirmary to wait a while longer for people to file into the waiting area. The other Medic was eyeing them thoughtfully from behind a sheet of paper. Immediately his eyes dropped to the page to read the notes.

“Anybody out there yet?” he chuckled.

That was when they realized that he was expecting them to be late. They might just arrive ten to thirty minutes later than the women, who were used to their Medic’s discipline. They began to wonder just how disciplined this Medic’s team really was.

The clock clicked to 0659. That was when the man rose from his seat, adjusted his glasses and strode to the door. He held red gloved hands behind his back as he pushed the doors with his foot and stepped out into the hallway.

He let out a hollering bellow of German that sounded like a ghastly line of slurs and cusses. His voice was powerful though, carrying itself far out of the hallway to the far reaches of the base. He stood with absolute poise though, with the look of a disciplined man.

They watched on as one by one, the man’s teammates started appearing. They almost looked terrified or haggard, or both. All of them had been fairly startled by the Medic’s outcry.

They took this time to check for who all was there. After doing a head count, and then recounting that, they found that their demo had yet to show up. They turned to the Scout, who was eagerly bouncing on her heels, perched up on her chair.

They shook their head, realizing it would be foolish to send the annoying Frenchwoman to the demo’s door. She was likely still sleeping, after a long and drunken stupor, no doubt. The only person who could safely pry her from her bed at this point would be the heavy. The tall woman was not as fast as her gangly legs proclaimed, she had more lift in her whole body than speed, but she would no doubt carry herself as quickly as she could manage.

“Heavy, would you fetch me the demo?” they requested.

She nodded, saying nothing. She was incredibly shy about saying anything in English, even to those who understood her frustration. She rose with slow deliberate movements, then proceeded out the door.

Medic swiveled on their heels to take in the rest of the room. On the left side were the women, with soldier at the end, dressed in red shorts with red-on-white t-shirts. On the right were the team that fell under the male Medic’s detail, each fiddling with something or acting lazy. All of them were dressed in the attire they were to use on the battlefield, none of them prepared for some form of physical.

“Are you unused to taking physicals?” the Medic announced, hoping to call their attentions to their foolishness.

Several men raised their head to give silent answering eyes. They said nothing. They did not even seem to acknowledge that they were no in the appropriate attire.

Out of the corner of their eye, they could see the tall proud Medic, smirking slightly. He almost seemed to be reveling in something.

“Go ahead, tell them to change for the physical,” he pressed, “They won’t.”

The Medic sighed, “If you so wish to get into the appropriate attire for this examination, I’ll give you time. In the meantime…” They turned to the women lined up, all who perked up to attention. “Ladies?” they motioned to the double doors.

They hopped off of the chairs and single filed into the infirmary, moving like soldiers in a single file order. It was just as orderly as the doctor always wanted. It was always to be orderly and efficient.

When they stepped inside, with the male Medic close at their heels, they were quickly faced with a problem. Shelly had the Pyro by the elbow, guiding them as if they would not move of their own accord. Shelly gave both Medic’s an awkward smile.

“Doc, you know how she gets about comin’ out of the suit in front of people,” Shelly stated, motioning to the Pyro.

Pyro was not entirely weak at English. She understood the words clearly and cringed in response. She did not want to have anything to do with people outside of her protective suit.

They sighed, “Alright, you two wait until we’re-”

“Excuse me, Frau Medic,” the Medic behind them interrupted them. They turned to look up at him, giving him their full attention. “I was hoping to allow you to perform everybody’s physicals, so I could take a bystander’s perspective. I wanted to make you aware of this before we resume.”

“Alright, but you won’t be able to witness Pyro’s examination,” they warned.

“Why? The Spy is allowing it,” the Medic waved at the curly blond woman, winked at them upon hearing her title.

They shook their head and motioned to Shelly, “You two wait outside until we finish up here. I’ll give Pyro a private examination.”

Shelly paused by the door, giving the man a small smile, “If it makes you feel better, you can be present for my own examination.”

The man quickly turned from her, disinterested in something kindly bestowed upon him. It made Medic roll their eyes as they proceeded to have Scout hop up onto the table. After checking their vitals and reflexes, they had her run on the tread mill. It was a beautiful new mill, given that the infirmary previously did not have one. They had to have Engineer put this beauty together so they could have efficient and effective examinations the next day.

After they pulled Scout off the tread mill, they checked her vitals again. It was great cardio work, even if the Scout could do more outside. It just needed to get her heart pumping for the Medic to have a good listen to it in action.

Each patient was treated mostly the same, with customized questions relating to their own health. Ritalin pill count for the Scout, just to make sure she was taking them – no point in getting her more pills if she was not taking them. Vitamins for the sniper, who did not seem to get the proper vitamins in their diet and lifestyle as of late. A double check of Spy’s lungs and a quick check of her blood for diabetes, given her family’s history. A much more brief check over soldier, who was in tip top form as always.

Just as they finished with the Soldier, the Demo and Heavy came strolling in. Heavy cut in after Soldier, taking a seat on the table to get it over with. She did not say anything during the entire exam. She rarely did when others were present. She had much more to say when it was just her and the doctor, but even that was very little bits and pieces. The Medic barely managed to slip the box of medication for Heavy’s condition discreetly into her pink palms. Her hands managed to wrap around it and hide it, but the Medic suspected the man nearby was becoming aware of the box.

Medic glanced up into Heavy’s eyes. Those dark gems were barely agleam like they used to be. She used to have such passion for something she was fighting for. Now she looked like the fire had been beaten out of her. Still, even looking forlorn, Medic could not help but admire the lovely shape of her cheeks and nose, with the way the light touched upon her ebony skin. A face like that could have been on the cover of a magazine if she wanted badly enough.

They shooed the Heavy out to hide their pills and finally turned to the Demo. She was wavering slightly, her eyes half-lidded tiredly. She looked like she would fall right off the examination table. The woman was surprisingly small, nearly the smallest of their team. If not for Pyro, she would be considered the tiniest mercenary working for RED. Of course, she was the smallest Demo any had ever seen. Most other Demos, even ones who were women, dwarfed this woman by a foot or even two.

“Demo, are you awake?” the Medic snapped their fingers in front of her face.

Her eyes snapped, pushing away sleepiness. She stretched her arms, placing her hands up on top of the bandana that held back her dreadlocks. She blinked at the Medic for a while.

“I’m up,” she yawned, “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”

Medic sighed with irritation but said nothing as they started listening for her heart and lungs. Demo had a taste for temper tantrums, and Medic was in no mood to clean up Touhenboku’s infirmary if she decided to trash it.

When the last had been dismissed, the Medic stepped into the hall to beckon the men inside. They were disgruntled looking. They were not ready to hop up and march into the room like their female counterparts had.

Scout hopped up and bounded towards the Medic with an excited smile, “I’ve got ticket number one! Tell me, do I get examined by the pretty doctor?” The boy’s New Jersey accent hit their ears with some slight familiarity.

They held out a hand, pushing the Scout to arm’s length for comfort’s sake, “Yes, I’ll be examining you, Jersey.”

He smiled broadly as he trotted in to take a seat on the examination table. Medic hesitated, turning to the rest of the team. They were resuming with their fiddling.

Medic cleared the throat loudly, calling attention back to them, “All members single file into the infirmary, please.”

Silence answered them. Behind them, they could hear a slight chuffle from the Medic, and the swinging of the Scout’s legs. The little bits of noise irritated them. They straightened their back and raised their chin, preparing the disgusted sneer of a soldier’s face.

Their voice raised high, carrying almost as strongly as the German Medic’s had, “I SAID ON YOUR FEET AND IN THE INFIRMARY NOW, BEFORE I DRAG YOU TO THE EXAMINATION MYSELF!”

They were taken aback by the strength of their voice. They were not as quick as the others to get up, but they did make their way inside, making some semblance of a single file line. All the while, Shelly started chuckling at the Medic’s reddening face.

When the Medic reentered the room, they found the other Medic murmuring something to their resident giant. The heavily set man had his thick arms folded over his chest, even as he leaned over to hear the Medic’s words. He nodded slightly, giving him a half-hearted, “Da.”

The word clicked in Medic’s mind and they almost smiled when they realized that the man was Russian. That was a language they knew a little bit about, if only from conversations with their own Spy.

“We gonna do this, or what?” the eager little Scout swung his legs wildly on the table.

Medic sighed as they hurried over to take the Scout’s clipboard from the neat little stack the other Medic had made. They brought it with them to check the Scout’s heart. Before they could ask the boy to lift his shirt, he flung it off like he had been waiting for the moment he could bear his chest.

They did not let this phase them, chocking it up to being used to only men around. They pressed the cold stethoscope to his chest, causing him to wriggle, “Calm breaths please.” They watched the ticking of the seconds hand on their wrist, until they had counted the heartrate for a minute. They proceeded to listen to his lungs, “Deep breath.” The Scout obeyed every command, whether the stethoscope was on his chest or his back.

After further checking his vitals, they placed the boy on the treadmill. He was quite eager to pick up a pace, not unlike their own Scout. “I could run this thing to the ground! Watch me!” he was already turning up the speed, wanting to show off just how fast he could move.

They reached over and turned down the speed, refusing to let the boy break the machinery, “That will not be necessary. This is only for cardio. We just need your heartrate to go up. A jog will do fine.”

“Alright doc, whatever you say,” the boy gave them a crooked grin as he complied to the speed they set.

After the Scout was the Engineer, who pulled off his hardhat to reveal a clean shaven head. He hopped onto the table and obliged their every request.

The demo was not unlike the demo they were used to taking care of, drunk and falling over. As he was not on duty, he had no reason to care about sitting upright. It made them fret and force him upright with one hand while listening to his breathing with the other. The man was even worse about the treadmill.

The Sniper was a nervous fellow, a lanky Australian who did not like it when they poked and prodded at him. His eyes especially disliked having a light shined into his pupils. Being in jeans made the whole treadmill running part difficult, but the Medic turned it down to a very light jog. Even that seemed to be a struggle though, as the Sniper did not seem to have a lot of stamina in himself.

“Not much for running,” he admitted, with a thick slur that could have only come from the countryside of Australia, “I’m more of a sit and wait for ‘em to come to me kinda merc.”

“I understand that, Sniper,” they responded, “But, in this line of work, every mercenary needs to be prepared for the long haul. That includes being able to run on and off the battlefield.”

“I understand Medic,” he nodded, replacing his hat on his head, “I’ll do my best to improve.”

They heard the other Medic guffaw at that. They turned to see an aghast look on the Medic’s face. The thick Russian man was chuckling and patting him, muttering some Russian words.

“Alright then, who is next?” the Medic dismissed the Sniper.

He was quickly replaced by the resident soldier. They had seen soldiers like this on the battlefield, but had not expected the loud obnoxious shouting in their face. After taking a moment to scorn him for yelling and for intruding on the North Upstairs wing, they proceeded to check his vitals. The proud American man held his head high all through the examination, and even took moments to question their motives, such as why would they need to listen to the back of their lungs when the perfect side was the front. He was less than compliant about using the treadmill, spouting something about lazy hippies.

With some assistance from others in the room, they managed to get the Soldier onto the treadmill. They even managed to check his vitals afterward, before dismissing him to do something with eagles or something. There was something disconcerting about this man to Medic. They decided to keep somebody around whenever around the American Soldier.

The Soldier was replaced by a fully clad Spy, balaclava hiding most of his face. They recognized him from the day before, being both suave in attitude and thoughtful of people around him. Perhaps they would have the easiest time with him.

That guess turned out to be fault, but not at the fault of the Spy himself. He was a chain smoker, not unlike their own Spy. His lungs brought him to hacking and gagging, and he had the weakest arms of any mercenary they had dealt with before. Being clad in a suit, the treadmill was once again set to a low setting, but he did not last so long as the Sniper. He could keep running, but he was hacking and gagging from all of the problems in his lungs.

“I tell you to quit that smoking,” the German shook his head with disapproval, “You don’t listen to me.”

They agreed with him, nodding, “Cigarettes will be your downfall on the battlefield.”

“I am most focused with a cigarette,” the Spy argued, giving them no room to make him seem abashed. He held himself upright and proudly, not unlike the taller German man.

Medic took a deep breath, as they thought back to handling the other Spy. She had been in this situation as well, hacking and gagging whenever she had to flee from an enemy. It had taken a long time to help her to recover, but it required a lot of foolish lying.

Medic started to chew on the inside of their lip as they turned to the clipboard in their hand. They were not sure how close to ethics the other Medic stuck, as what they wanted to do was not in any way considered ethical.

“I cannot quit,” the Spy stated firmly.

“You mean that you will not quit,” the male Medic corrected.

The Spy snorted in derision. He refused to give further response to what was a correct claim.

Medic took a breath and strode over to a stack of boxes in the corner. They had yet to go through all of the things they had brought with them for the infirmary. There was not much room here, and much of what they had brought were spare medications from the latest shipment. They were not willing to let them go to waste by sitting at that other infirmary, so they dug through them.

The room was silent, aside from their digging. With one hand they dug out a spare empty bottle meant to give small dosages of the medications contained in larger bottles. With the other hand, they dug out a box of tic tacs from their breast pocket. Having practiced this various times, they quickly measured out a count of fourteen tic tacs, their back turned to the mercenaries behind them. They quickly tucked the tic tacs away and popped the lid on before striding over to the Spy.

“What is this?” he asked as he accepted the bottle.

“Fourteen days’ worth of nicotine pills,” they lied, “Take one in the morning and avoid smoking as much as you can.”

“You expect me to quit?” the Spy interjected, with a stubbornness to his attitude.

“No, just to back off a little,” they explained, “Hopefully it will help your lungs to get a little less ash and a little more air into them.”

The Spy nodded, acknowledging the kindness. He had an eye of suspicion though, “Why did these need a new bottle?”

“I don’t ever give away all of my pills to one merc, Spy,” they stated, “There is a measurement of fourteen pills in there. If you can’t handle a day, you can take a max of two a day, but I would not advise taking more. And then we’ll see what else we can do by the end of that.”

The Spy nodded slowly. He looked down at the bottle, “Thank you, doctor.”

“Alright then. Who’s next?” they turned to the heavy set Russian man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because it is silly to expect you to just know what these things mean  
> German:  
> Frau - Mrs  
> Ja - Yes  
> Dummkopf - Oaf; Idiot
> 
> French:  
> Oui - Yes
> 
> Japanese:  
> Touhenboku (唐変木) - Oaf; Bigot (German: Dummkopf)
> 
> I will update this as we go along.
> 
> Edit:  
> It was brought to my attention that some know blond/blonde as gender specific. I have never known this, and upon looking it up found the exact same definition for both in dictionaries "a person with fair hair and skin."  
> I will work on improving perspectives.


	3. Confrontations with Teammates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sniper meets some new teammates, especially female Spy.  
> The Engineers meet and the Pyros become fast friends.  
> The Soldier's meet and the resident Soldier comes to a devastating conclusion.

Sniper kept an eye on the recreational room from a dark corner. From beneath his hat and aviators, he scanned the room’s occupants. In the far corner, the loud mouth American was harassing the new Soldier, whole attire resembled more of British military – even the way he saluted. The man’s big goofy smile seemed to make Soldier angrier.

The beer and blood stained pool table had been taken over by a scraggly looking Jamaican woman with dreadlocks pulled back under a red and orange bandana, a tall, well-toned African woman with short cropped hair and a Heavy vest, and his pals the Heavy and Demo. He snorted at seeing the Demo try to line up a shot with only one eye.

“You can’t even see the table right, you idiot!” the Jamaican woman shouted, flinging her arm at the Demo dramatically.

“Ye can’t hold me back lass,” Demo chuckled, missing his target with the pool cue, “I won’t be deterred by a loud mouth! I deal with that Scout on a daily basis!”

The woman simply flung her head back and bellowed in laughter, “Words like that from a man who can’t even find the ball!”

“Demo will find ball,” Heavy spoke up, his arms moving over the dramatic force of his lungs.

“Yea sure,” the Jamaican hopped up to sit on the edge of the table, watching closely as the cyclops sought out his target from a low angle.

“You are resident sniper?” a coy voice pulled him out of his focused scanning.

He turned to look at the tall slender woman. He studied her from behind the aviators with curiosity. She had the look of a woman who belonged in some fancy restaurant, or even at a business party.

“Do you have a light?” she asked, pulling out a fag.

He hesitated, almost reaching to his pocket. That was when he remembered that he did not smoke anymore. He quit it plenty long ago to have better lungs than Spy. He finally shook his head.

She sighed, holding the stick between two fingers with an elegant stance, “Why so lonely over here?”

He pushed off of the wall, “Prefer it that way.”

“Such a shame to slink into the shadowy corners when you could be enjoying the company of friends,” she noted, with that coy tone in her voice.

“Er…not much for social situations,” he stated, shifting his feet nervously, “You’re the female Spy right?”

Her eyebrow twitched, “I’m Spy, yes.”

“You seem…” he let his words trail off when he realized how stupid it would be to note that she was not French. They certainly did not have any Africans or Jamaicans on their team, so assuming the rest would be the same copy and paste of hired mercs would be silly.

“I seem what?” she stepped closer to him, moving into his personal space.

He never liked it when people moved into his personal space. Nobody bothered him much, so having somebody new come into his bubble made him fret.

“I didn’t spook the big bad Sniper, did I?” she cooed. She followed it with a playful giggle.

He blushed at the toying comment. He was being played with and he had trotted right into her little plot. He knew if he kept talking he would just keep playing into her game, like it would be with any Spy.

He was saved by the loud mouthed Boston boy, as he trotted in talking about some sports game. He shuffled off to feign interest. He would sacrifice comfort around the female Scout to get away from the female Spy.

“This one time, I found this clam. I was with my friends by the beach. It was huge! It was bigger than a baseball. I chucked it, hit it so hard it broke in half!” the young French woman chittered excitedly back at Scout.

“Clean in half?” Scout asked, his eyebrows raising slightly.

“Yea!” she replied, excitedly.

“What are you talking about?” Sniper asked, hoping to escape the waiting clutches of the Spy. He could practically feel the hot smoke of her cigarette on his back, as she lingered nearby.

“Just the most awesomest things we’ve done outside of mercenary shit and sports,” the French Scout’s poignant attempt at an American dialect was jarring for Sniper.

“So like I said,” Scout went on. Sniper tuned out his chatter though, turning to survey the room.

Old habits die hard for old men. Being as his life expectancy should have ended him years ago, his old habits were older than his mother was when she died. Already that fact hit home pretty hard.

“Snipes, are you listening?” Scout was snapping his fingers in front of his face to catch his attention.

“Yup, just got distracted mate,” he responded.

“I wanted to introduce myself,” the woman stepped towards him with a hand outstretched.

That unwavering undertone of French accent caused Sniper to hesitate. He was not used to women, even if it was Mrs. Pauling. But he was used to Frenchmen and Spies. All the Spies he had known were French, and all the Frenchmen he had known in his mercenary work were Spies.

“I’m my team’s Scout, but you can call me Adaliz,” she smiled.

He forced himself to accept the hand. It was just a kind greeting. Even Spies could be polite enough to greet people, and he was a professional, so he would be equally polite. This was not even a Spy, but he was thinking of her as if she was right in there with the lying spooks he was used to.

“I’m the Sniper,” he mulled over the conversation happening in front of him, and wanted to offer some form of social grace, “Junior here calls me Snipes, but you can call me Jules.”

Her face lit up, her smile somehow getting bigger. She gave his hand a firm shake, chattering away wildly about how glad she was to meet him and be a part of this whole team. He basically tuned her out, noting that the other Scout behind her was giving him a flabbergasted look.

He simply shrugged at the boy and turned to scanning the room. That was when he noticed that the Spy’s presence had disappeared. That did not mean she had left, that just meant he had to track her again, lest he got caught in her trap.

“You seem tense,” that familiar French accent tugged at him and his fingers touched his kukri’s hilt. He turned to acknowledge the Spy with a simple nod. “No need to seem so jolted,” Spy replied, “I am simply checking in on the team.”

“Spy lurking nearby,” he noted, turning back to the room before him. Somehow the familiar French Spy’s hand on his shoulder was less disconcerting than that Russian woman’s impending trap.

Spy cleared his throat, “Come again?”

“He’s talking about me,” the woman appeared next to the French Spy, as if summoned, “The little bushman can’t handle a tall drink of vodka when it’s in front of him.” She smirked, her eyes sparkling in the dim light of the room. She slipped her hand into the Frenchman’s hand with snake-like grace, “Nonna.”

“Come again?” the Spy was once again stumped by a teammate, his cigarette hanging low from his mouth.

“My name,” she chuckled, a finger tracing up the sleeve of the Frenchman’s suit, “It’s Nonna.”

The Spy effortlessly brushed away her attempts. He had his wits and social graces about himself without a bat of an eye. Though he did lid his eyes halfway, giving her a look of disgust, as if looking upon a whore.

“Jules is it?” she directed her attention to the Sniper.

He cleared his throat and shuffled his feet nervously. One Spy was enough, but now there were two. He could not imagine how the man next to him was handling the allure of such a woman though. She certainly knew which strings to pull, and she had hardly touched the Sniper.

“Please do not disturb the Sniper,” he was surprised that the Spy stepped up for him, “He is a man of few words, and what he does say shouldn’t be taken for granted.”

She sighed, with a dramatic flourish of her manicured hand, “Alright then. I’ll leave the helpless bushman be.”

The Sniper did not get a chance to give the Spy a thank you, as Demo suddenly keeled over. He was well known for holding his liquor, but it seemed that he had had just a bit too much. Then again, it seemed that glass shattered around was the aftermath of a large bottle being brought over his head.

“There goes demo,” Sniper mumbled, starting towards the fallen Scotsman.

The assailant crouched by the man’s head, poking at him with uncertainty as to whether he was still alive or not. Of course, this would probably be easier if he just died and respawned over by the Engineer’s workshop. But, that would also mean there would be a log of his death by a friendly.

“You alive?” the woman poked at his head, curiously.

“Demo is heavy sleeper,” Heavy spoke up, stepping around the pool table to help Sniper lift their teammate off the floor.

“Well, this Demo cannot handle her temper,” the female Spy stepped towards the Jamaican woman, placing a hand on her shoulder casually.

The hand was quickly brushed away, “Shut your trap, and don’t make accusations you know nothin’ about. Alight?”

She laughed playfully at the declaration, “Oh come on, Lucy! You know I am just teasing!”

Lucy started to backfire, getting ready to take a quip at the taller Russian woman with a balled fist and sharp words. She was cut off when the tallest of their group, the African woman with dark eyes, stepped in to intervene. She shook her head at Lucy and looked to Nonna.

“It is not good behavior,” she said, a heavy accent superseding her words, “Do not toy with Demo.” Her eyes swung towards the Australian Sniper, who sucked through his teeth at meeting her gaze. “Do not toy with new teammates,” she turned her gaze back to the female Spy.

“Yea, yea,” Nonna sighed with disdain, “I’ll try.”

“Do or don’t do,” the African woman’s arms rippled with muscle when she moved. She left her words as they were as she turned to the three men watching.

That was when Sniper realized that Heavy was waiting on him. They had been standing there gawking, with an unconscious Demoman between them. It made him feel rather foolish.

“Sorry for trouble,” the woman’s calm words put Sniper’s mind at ease for a short time.

“No big deal,” Heavy shrugged, “Demo is rowdy man. Sometimes deserve knock on head.”

She nodded in response but said nothing more. Seeing that her words were no longer needed, she moved on to leave the room. She was no longer interested in playing pool with an opponent downed.

“Let us take care of Demo,” Heavy interrupted Sniper’s thoughts. He nodded in response and followed Heavy’s lead to Demo’s room.

*********************************************************************

Alan was sorting through the little bits and pieces in his tool box when Pyro tapped on his shoulder. The Engineer turned and pushed up his hardhat to greet his pal. He gave him a toothy grin and a “howdy” before noting the second Pyro standing behind him.

“Ah, good to see ya…both,” he paused with uncertainty.

Alan knew Pyro the whole time working here for RED, but had never had a look at them under the suit. Seeing a second person with the same exact suit, standing at the same height, with that same curious cock to the head, was confusing. He would not call it unnerving, he was not afraid of friendly Pyros, it was just a bit confusing as to which Pyro was whom.

The Pyro spoke some muffled words and motioned towards the other Pyro. So this was a greeting, and the Pyro directly in front of him was his pal. Having gathered the information he needed, he smiled and tipped his hard hat to the other Pyro.

“Pleasure meetin’ ya,” he stated, “But I’m not sure how to tell you apart, either by name or by suit. You’re dressed the same.”

That brought giggles out of both Pyros. They delightedly hopped on the balls of their feet. It made Alan chuckle, realizing that Pyro had found a kindred spirit in the other team’s Pyro, somebody they could probably relate to on levels that Alan and others on the team just could not relate.

The new Pyro clapped their hands together before pulling something out from underneath the rubber of their suit. It was a sheet of what appeared to be pretty pink pictures. No, it was stickers.

They took these stickers and began plastering them to the other Pyro’s face. Pyro, delighted at this venture, took some stickers from the sheet and began returning the favor. By the time the sheet was all gone, they had little Hello Kitty stickers, with pink and yellow animals, all over their masks.

“Well isn’t that adorable?” a thick Irish brogue filled the room.

Alan turned to see the female Engineer. She had a thick mop of curly red hair, pale skin, blue eyes, and a red tinge to her rounded cheeks. He blushed when he noted how pretty her face was. He quickly became distracted from these thoughts, when he heard the kachunk of one foot falling on metal. She had a bent metal and rubber appendage for a right leg, protruding from the end of her pantleg.

He pulled off his hard hat and pondered this for a moment. He could have sworn that he had seen her in the infirmary with two boots on. He did not specifically pay attention to her at the time, he had been distracted with a guitar and curious thoughts about the medical infirmary’s new dynamic.

“Greetings,” she smiled brightly, “Sorry about Pyro. But, this is the fastest she’s e’er taken a liking to somebody.”

“It’s no problem,” he returned the smile, “Name’s Alan.”

“Shelly,” she gave him a nod.

“What?” he was taken aback for just a moment before he realized that it was her name.

“My name’s Shelly,” she responded, before nodding at the female Pyro, “This here is Yukina.”

Upon hearing her name, the Pyro took a sticker off her mask and offered it to the Engineer. She was reaching out to place it against his shaven head. He flinched away, both out of instinct and the desire to not have frilly stickers planted on his dome.

Shelly laughed, “Guess she’s taken a liking to you too. Glad to see she’ll quickly make friends here.”

“Thank you kindly, Pyro,” Alan put his hard hat back on, “But I’m not a fan of stickers.” Muffled snickers responded to him.

“Ah, for sanity’s sake, you might as well call her Yukina. It’ll be easier on everybody,” Shelly told him, with a chuckle, “Mind if I sit?” She motioned to an empty stool, the one that was usually there for the Medic’s sake.

“Go right ahead,” he motioned to the seat, “So you’re the Engineer?”

“And you’re the resident Engineer?” she chuckled, her cheeks glowing with a red tinge that brought out her pale freckles.

Alan quickly took his own seat, feeling awkward standing up, “Yea, suppose it’ll be nice to have a partner to work with. Gets difficult handlin’ all these guns alone.”

She nodded in agreement, “Considerin’ I got one of my original legs,” she paused to wiggle the metal appendage, “and one that I can’t feel so well, fast is not my middle name. You’re probably faster than me on your feet in battle, eh?”

“I’m sure you move just fine in the time you need to,” he offered encouragement.

That cheered her up, “I look forward to working together…Alan you said it was?”

“Yup,” he nodded, “Though the others usually just call me Tex.”

“Why is that?” she tilted her head curiously.

“Reckon it’s my Texan accent,” he chuckled.

She threw her head back at that. Her hair shook when she laughed, “None of my mates woulda gotten away with that.”

“Oh I don’t have the heart to stop ‘em,” he chuckled.

“I ain’t saying I would,” she said, breaking her laughter, “Medic is a disciplined- er…person. Medic doesn’t stand for names that aren’t assigned or nicknames that aren’t expressly given.”

“What do you mean?” he furrowed his brow.

“Welp, I suppose it goes back to the enemy teams,” she shrugged, “Yukina doesn’t much like the nicknames they give her. And Medic has heard quite a few other taunts from the opposing teams. So they get real strict with punishments when teammates start dishing out nicknames that aren’t agreed upon.”

“Alright then, if Tex bothers ya, you can call me Alan, or Al,” he smirked.

“And you can call me Shelly,” she laughed heartily.

*********************************************************************

Soldier looked down on the man in front of him. Nothing moved him. Nothing swayed him. That big hippie smile on his face never faltered, whether he was screamed at, smacked, punched, kicked or even given a glass bottle to the head. Somehow the man’s noggin beneath his hippie hat was as strong as Soldier’s own helmet.

“You are pathetic!” Soldier spat in the man’s face.

For a moment, the hippie paused to wipe the spit from his face with a sleeve. He continued grinning, like the great big idiot that he was. Why nobody else was bothered by this little love loving hippie faced man was beyond Soldier.

“To each their own, I suppose,” the other Soldier finally said.

Soldier’s eyes widened, realizing that this man was not just a pathetically smiling hippie, he was a foreign pathetically smiling hippie. No he did not know where he was from for certain. But, Soldier knew for certain that that was not an American voice.

“What was that maggot!” Soldier raised his voice.

The idiot threw his hand up, as if in salute, but with his palm facing Soldier, “I said ‘to each their own’ sir!”

Soldier was a little taken aback by the response. He never got such a commanding and perfect response from his teammates. They were all eye-rolls and slow tongues. None of them understood the discipline of a real soldier’s brine.

“State your name and class, maggot!” Soldier demanded loudly.

“John Smith, Soldier class!” the man responded in a quick bark.

Soldier blinked at him, thinking about what he had just heard. When he had finished mulling over those words, “No, I asked for your class, maggot!”

“Soldier!” the man barked.

“Maggot!” soldier responded.

“Soldier!”

“MAGGOT!”

“SOLDIER!”

“MAGGOT!”

“SOLDIER!”

“MAGGOT, YOU HAD BETTER GIVE ME AN ANSWER!” he grabbed the man by the front of his uniform and lifted him off the floor.

“Soldier!” the Spy intervened, placing one hand that held a cigarette between two fingers on his shoulder, “Please. Put our teammate down.”

“This maggot refuses to give his class!” Soldier barked angrily. He placed the man on his feet, but did not release his clothing.

The Frenchman rubbed his forehead with his cigarette in hand, “Soldier, he is the-”

Soldier would not be deterred, and turned back to the man in his hands, “There will be no insubordination, not in my America!”

“Soldier, please,” the Frenchman pleaded on the man’s behalf.

“What do you want Frenchie?” Soldier growled.

“Tell us, what your name is…Soldier?” the Spy waved his cigarette at the still-smiling hippie.

“Name is John, sir!” the smiling hippie turned his attention to the Frenchman.

“Your name cannot be John!” Soldier barked, shaking the man by his outfit.

“But it is,” the hippie replied.

“You can’t have that name! I’m John! You can’t be John!” Soldier’s voice was starting to raise with anger.

“Soldier, please,” the Frenchman moaned, “He is the Soldier that arrived with the others. His name is John, just like yours. You happen to share class and name, what is the problem with that.”

Soldier paused, half turned to the Frenchman. He was a bit dazed at the new information. He turned to look at the man he was holding, with that happy, shit-eating grin on his face.

“Your name is John?” Soldier asked, a bit more calmly this time. His fists were becoming lax around the man’s attire.

“Yes sir!” the man responded through his smiling teeth.

“And you are the Soldier?” he asked, sinking into a feeling of desperation.

“Yes sir!” the man barked.

Soldier released the man. He looked at his hands, gazing at his war-worn palms. He was mulling over the words and what that meant for him, John the Soldier.

“Are you alright, Soldier?” the Frenchman patted his shoulder again.

He spun to face the Spy abruptly, “This can mean only one thing!”

“And what is that?” Spy winced away from him, as if being assaulted.

“I’M A GHOST!” Soldier departed from the room, charging off to his quarters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Sniper.  
> Pyros just seem adorable to me.
> 
> Spoiler: Both Soldiers are stupid.


	4. Just Getting Along

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier is an idiot. A lovable damn idiot.
> 
> Shelly makes Alan a proposal he just can't bring himself to refuse.

Shelly groaned as she pulled her aching body off of the bed. She slept weird on the mattress, leaving her lower back aching. It did not help that the nub of her leg was tingling. She sighed and decided to bother the Medic about the pain later.

She pulled her pants on first, pulling up the one leg up high to fit her prosthetic into place. She pulled the pant leg smoothly over the prosthetic to stuff it into the faux boot. She stood to stomp her feet into her boots before tying them.

The familiar screaming voice came pounding through the hallway. It was like he was on a clock. So, with heavy sigh, Shelly pulled a t-shirt over her head and darted out the door – or rather stumbled.

The Soldier barreled towards her, screaming wildly as he looked through her. She was startled by that wild look in his eyes, but was not deterred. It might have been more comical if he was actually wearing clothes. Rather he was wearing red white and blue, stars and stripes boxers, laced and polished boots, and a helmet that concealed his eyes. One hand held the bugle horn, but he was not blowing it this time.

With one mighty swing, Shelly aimed for his throat. All she had to do was aim, the swing was rendered unnecessary as he charged right into her fist. He choked as his throat collapsed and he fell on the floor.

She watched him flail on the floor, choking and gagging from the pain of being sucker punched in the throat. She could only tsk and shake her head at him. She thought nobody could beat the stupidity of their own ditzy Soldier, but this man took the cake.

“What are you doing up here?” she demanded, “You’re not to be up in this wing. Mrs. Pauling declared this area off limits to all of you!”

“I’m a ghost!” the Soldier barked, staggering to his feet.

“What now?” she blinked at him, flabbergasted at the response.

“I am a supernatural spirit, an ethereal spirit of the Underworld,” Soldier announced, puffing up his furry chest.

Shelly chuckled and shook her head, “Lad you’re as opaque as they come. But apparently not very bright.”

“Oh Shelly!” she heard the Medic’s voice call to her. Her head turned to see the doctor stepping out of their room and locking the door. “So you’ve caught the screaming-” they stopped midstep towards her, staring at the mostly-nude Soldier. Their face contorted, from confused to disgusted.

“Apparently the resident Soldier has lost more of his marbles than our own,” Shelly chuckled.

“Uhhh…” Medic furrowed their brow with confusion and concern.

“I am an eternal haunting!” the Soldier growled, pointing a finger close to Shelly’s face, “And you would do well to fear me as I will be turning you maggots into shivering little babies!”

Shelly pushed the man’s hand away from her face, “No need for that, lad. You’re probably out of it or something. Sleep walkin’ or something?” She pushed up the front of the helmet with a finger, but found that the Soldier’s eyes were wide open and taking her in with a contorted snarl.

“The fool is as foolish as any Soldier on BLU,” the Medic strolled over to get a better assessment of the situation.

“You’ve made my list, doc!” the Soldier growled loudly, turning his finger to the doctor’s face.

The Medic made short time in snatching the finger and bending it back until it snapped. The Soldier cried out, rendering the desired response, and Medic smiled. It made Shelly cringe a little, seeing the little moments like this where Medic crossed the line a little, relatively speaking. They were in a war, after all.

“And you have made my list of patients, Soldier,” Medic did not release his finger, pulling him towards the entrance to the North Upstairs wing.

The Soldier followed, wincing and making little noises of pain. He tried to pull away, resulting in only more pain. Shelly did not follow them though, as she was sure the Medic could manage. She decided to check on Pyro, who was likely expecting her or the Medic to beckon her out of the privacy of her own space.

She found Yukina looking in a mirror. The Pyro mask was under her arm, but she had this strange look on her face. Shelly had seen it before, it was a heartbreaking face. It was like she was a ghost, a shell of a girl. What she stared at did not exist to her, so when Shelly came into view of the mirror the youth did not react, her eyes did not even shift.

“Yukina,” she spoke softly, hoping to bring the girl calmly out of her stupor.

When she did not respond, Shelly looked around the room. The corner had been filled with papers. Each page looked like it had been scrawled over with Japanese calligraphy. It was not what was on them or anything that startled her, but the way they were jumbled in the corner, as if they were not supposed to be there. Yukina knew they were not supposed to exist there.

Shelly sighed and headed out the door, “Just stay here. I’ll be back later.”

She carefully closed the door behind herself before she headed down to the infirmary. There she found the Medic tending to the mostly-naked Soldier. The other Medic seemed to be confused, questioning the patient about his current attire.

“Hey Medic,” Shelly spoke softly, unable to bring herself to desire a louder voice than what the Soldier was speaking with.

“Shelly? Something wrong?” the shorter Medic responded without looking from the patient’s hand. The German Medic glanced her way, but saw that she was not in any dire need of attention.

“Pyro’s piled papers in a corner again,” she stated.

“Alright, go get the papers outside, I’ll be up to take care of her myself,” the Medic nodded, bobbing bangs of blond hair.

Shelly said nothing as she made her way back upstairs. She had done this before, but would not handle Pyro herself. They were close, almost closer than Pyro was with Medic. They had a close knit relationship that the Medic did not have with anybody, but there were some things that Shelly did not understand, be it cultural differences or Pyro’s mind.

When she came back to the room, Pyro was still standing there. Her face looked so ghostly white. Her eyes stared deep into the mirror, as if she could see into another realm.

“Doc will be up shortly,” she said softly, as she hobbled to the mess of papers. She did her best to stack them together, making them easier to carry.

When she had the papers, she took another look at the ghostly Japanese woman. She had not moved. Shelly said nothing and shuffled out the door and down the stairs before she could mess up the quiet that filled the room.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Scout came out of the base, prepping to do some practice batting, when he came upon a weird sight. The female Engineer was standing awkwardly, looking at an array of papers with what looked like wild scribbles inked on them. They were laid out almost in an orderly fashion, yet dropped all over.

In the midst of the papers, one of the Pyros was looking to the female Medic. The woman was holding out a lighter, offering it to the Pyro, as if it did not know it was supposed to start fire as part of its class. When it did take the lighter, it started lighting pieces of paper, one by one laying them into the assorted papers.

He could already see where this was going, so he moved along. He did not need to know what kind of weird rituals the Medic and Engineer were willing to go through with a Pyro. For all Scout knew, it was just an unaware pawn of one of the Medic’s science experiments.

If this Medic was anything like the resident Medic, they would surely have some experiments up their sleeves. He imagined that after their physicals the day before, she was already planning what she wanted to do with each of them. Of course being the youngest, fittest, fastest, and overall bestest on his team, Scout would be the first selection for an experiment. It was all just a matter of time and keeping his distance.

“Howdy ho!” the slightly taller French girl appeared in front of him out of nowhere.

“Holy- Where’d you come from?” he exclaimed, staggering backwards.

“The base,” she stated, “You going to throw some balls? Up for some one on one?”

He smiled, liking the idea of somebody to toss the ball with. Usually he had to go fetch the balls that he hit far away, otherwise he just whacked grenades to see how far he could send them. None of the others on his team seemed to bother with methods of exercise like Scout. He was probably the most creative person on his team.

“Let’s do this!” he threw a fist into the air, turning to head out to the open desert where they would not disturb anything. The last time he hit a ball too close to the base he broke a window into Spy’s smoke room, which led to the Spy haunting him for weeks until it was fixed.

He stopped short when he noticed the two dark skinned women strolling out of the base. They were talking to each other and laughing. It made him curious about what they were planning to do, and whether they would like it if he invited them to join in.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The desert was quiet for the most part. The distant thwack of a baseball followed by laughter was the only exception to that. Sniper would have preferred the silence, but this would do fine. Scout’s typical loudness just made it easier for him to track where the others would be at. He was far from the base now, farther than the scout would go, but he left from the other side.

Out here he could hear the crunching of the dirt beneath his boots. He could feel the life of the sun as it beat upon the brown landscape, shaping its colors and harshening its shadows. The quiet amidst the echo of the game of baseball was comforting to his ears, as he sank into his element.

He took a breath as he found himself a good spot with shade. It stood at the base of a rise in the earth. At the base was loose dirt, into which he buried the bottoms of the legs of his chair, but it rose up in jagged rock native to this area. As he looked up, his eyes grazed over the lines of red, yellow, blue and orange sediments that made up the rock’s strange but beautiful composition.

He dropped the box of ammunition into the dirt beside his chair. He would be wasting it, nobody would bother since he needed the shooting practice. Given the team was tired of getting him new targets, only to receive complaints that it was not like shooting the real thing, Sniper took to aiming at small things out in the desert. He would find the quick lizards and the fluttering birds, taking them down with a patiently calculated shot. No trigger happy fool could take down as many lizards as it took to make a solid belt, yet he had managed that.

He was about to sit down when he heard the footsteps. He snarled, instinctively reaching for his kukri. This far from the base he could very well be approached by an enemy, and either way he was expecting the spy.

He pulled his knife from its holster and turned to where he heard the footsteps. He was not surprised to see nobody, as the Spy would like to sneak up on him with an invis-watch or a cloak. He waited, watching with his ears instead of his eyes, knowing that his eyes could easily fool him in this case.

“Hello,” the small voice surprised him, shaking him out of his stony stature.

He turned his head to look down at a woman, who was shorter than himself, but definitely taller than average. He only realized she was a woman by the soft features of her face and the curves of her top. Otherwise, she wore something that covered her hair, draping down her back, and she donned an attire similar to himself. Over her shoulder she had a rifle slung, and under one arm was a box of ammunition.

“Sorry to bother you,” her voice was silky, “I’m not familiar with the layout of this place, and I was looking for someplace for target practice. You seem like you’re setting up to do that.”

“Y-yea…” he glanced at his chair and box of ammunition, “I was.”

He hesitated, looking back at her. His earlier suspicions started crawling up by instinct. He became alarmed that he was not immediately questioning of her presence.

“Spy?” he demanded, holding tightly to his kukri.

She shook her head, “No. No spooks from what I know.” She paused to place her box of ammunition in the dirt, being gentle with the box. “Last I saw Nonna was preying on the resident Medic down in the lab. Resident Spy seems to have locked himself in his own space.”

Sniper hesitated, feeling bad for questioning her. It seemed a bit silly, since he had not met her before. Why would the Spy use a disguise that Sniper had never met before? That was a question he chose to push aside.

“Name’s Jules,” he offered a hand in greeting.

“Sofia,” she gave his hand a solid shake.

She was wearing fingerless gloves, but her fingers were still soft. Brushing against his own callused digits, her fingers were smooth and soft. He became self-conscious about how rough and rugged his own hands felt, even his palm beneath the fingerless glove he shook her hand with.

“Seems like a nice spot,” she noted, as she pulled from his hand. She looked around the desert, scanning for targets, “Far from base. Nonna hates the heat, she wouldn’t come out here if she did not have to.”

“Spy doesn’t like to associate with most of us,” Sniper said. It was only half a lie, Spy was a social creature that craved attention no matter how aloof he seemed. He simply saw himself as above the ruffian mercenaries he worked with, and despised the fact that he worked with them.

“Probably best,” she gave him a curt nod, “I’m not fond of Spies hanging around.”

“Me either,” he lied.

It was a mostly true statement. He despised Spies in general. They were always sneaking up on him at inopportune moments to stab him in the back. But it was really the enemy spies that got to him. The resident Spy, who let him call him Paul – which he doubted was his real name – was fairly friendly and tended to keep the Sniper company. Being a loner, Sniper did not connect much with his teammates, but the Spy was one who sought out company, especially the company of somebody who did not ask many questions and did not tell much to others.

But, to say he wanted the friendly Spy hanging around while he was practicing was a flat lie. He never wanted anybody around during practice. They would want to talk. They would want to laugh and socialize with him, jestingly trying to bond with him, with the exception of the Heavy, who would pelt every target with any semiautomatic and automatic weapon in his arsenal.

The woman’s movement brought him out of his thoughts, as he focused on her moving into the shade, dropping to one knee. She brought the gun up, focusing her eye into the scope through the lens of her dark blue-rimmed glasses. She was right in her element. Even the heat did not seem to bother her.

“Y-you can take the chair if you like,” he offered, feeling a bit rude.

“No no,” she responded, never taking her eye off her scope, “I didn’t come to lounge. Don’t think I’m dainty for being a woman.”

He could tell that she was right. If he saw her in any other setting, he might have disagreed, given her thin stature. But looking at her poised like this, gun ready, hands steady, and barely a shimmer on her brow, she was no less a professional mercenary than he or any other Sniper in this war. It brought a smile to his face, glad that he met her here and not at the base. There he might have otherwise underestimated her.

He regretted not bringing out an ice box of beers, as his throat became dry. He ignored it though as he took a seat in his chair. As he did so, he was chuckling.

“Do you come out here often?” she asked, just before letting off the first shot.

“Just for weekend target practice,” he replied, as he searched for a target, “And I don’t bring the chair to lounge. If I’m just target practicing, I like to have some lumbar support.”

She chuckled, “I can understand that.” She let off another shot, already took something else out before he had decided on a target. “I like to train as if I’m back on the frontlines.”

“Battle is trying,” he agreed, with a nod.

“Not these ones,” she argued.

“What ones do you mean?” he asked, “I’ve only seen these wars in the past…” He started chuckling at himself as he realized that he had not left the area or seen anything news-related in decades.

“You’re out of touch then,” she paused, checking her rifle.

Sniper lined up a shot on a lizard and carefully lined up the shot. The bullet hit the dirt and it scampered off. He growled beneath his breath as he scanned for a new target. This conversation was distracting him from doing that.

“No need to get mad about missing,” she stated, “The lizards out here are small. If you can hit one in the toe, you can hit a Heavy in the head.”

He chuckled at that, “Force of habit.”

She let out two consecutive shots, and then jolted. He did a double take before he realized that it was a small reaction to victory. With the way her lips cocked into a smirk and her hand tightened for a moment, he could tell that she was momentarily celebrating a good shot.

“I really must be out of touch,” he said, shooting at another lizard. He got that one.

“Well, when this country is meddling with affairs and blundering through wars in other peoples’ countries, you would think that the people living there would be aware of it,” she explained.

“Oh…I meant with shooting,” he blushed with embarrassment at missing the switch back to the previous topic, “I haven’t lined up many shots yet and I lost count of how many you’ve made.”

“One,” she stated.

“One?” he lowered his scope to look at her again.

“I’ve been missing most,” she sighed. Her cheeks started to redden at the admission.

He chuckled, “I only just got my first shot in.” He refocused on the scope, searching for his next target.

Out of the corner of his other eye, he could see her grinning. She had big bright teeth, and a huge smile. It was a stark contrast to her smooth appearance and the darker tone of her skin – nowhere as dark as that rowdy Jamaican or the tall quiet woman. It was a lovely smile that was both awkward and yet perfectly reflecting of her enjoyment of the element she was in. She had the look of a real Sniper.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Shelly turned as a finger poked her shoulder. Alan was scratching his head, pushing up his hard hat to get at some of the shaven skin underneath. His goggles hid his eyes, but not the confused expression on his face.

“What was that about? I mean, I get the fire stuff probably calms your Pyro too, but…” he let his words trail off, hoping she would fill in the blanks for him.

She sidled through the workshop to have a seat. She had forgotten to mention the pain in her leg to the doc, but that would have to wait. She knew the Medic was busy getting Pyro’s mind off of things.

“Yukina’s…condition is sensitive. Came here with Medic herself, and became the Pyro because it was convenient. Fire wasn’t really her element for a while, until she realized it was a useful tool,” Shelly explains, “I guess sometimes she gets really frustrated and starts scribbling her feelings, and the Medic finds that letting her burn them in a specific manner helps her to release her anxieties in a healthy…or at least a safe manner.”

“Humm…” he chewed at the inside of his lip thoughtfully. His hands moved absentmindedly, picking up tools to put things together. He reminded her of Medic when somebody put a rubiks cube in their hands.

“I don’t understand it much myself,” Shelly admitted with a shrug, “But it helps her. She feels better. So I do my best and help out where I can.”

“I can understand that,” Alan nodded, “I do much the same for Pyro. They were…reassigned a few times before we ended up on the same team. But they have always had a penchant for fire, which has led them to some trouble, and I have had to resort to various means to keeping them from burning down the base.”

Shelly chuckled, “Ah, Yuki had that kind of a phase. She almost burns down the place sometimes when she gets mad.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Alan chuckled, reaching into a blue and white box he had brought into the workshop with him. He pulled out a pair of brown bottles, “Drink?”

“I could go for something wet,” she nodded, accepting the beer.

As if they were thinking the same, the moment they had the caps off, they clacked the bottles together before wetting their palettes. It was a nice feeling for Shelly. It had been a long time since she had been around somebody who enjoyed the intricacies of engineering – not just general science – like Shelly did. But Alan seemed to have a mindset very similar to her own, and it made her feel more welcome knowing that they were very much alike.

“I hope you don’t take this the wrong way when I say that I enjoy spending time here with you,” she said, setting the bottle down on a table. She scooted her chair closer to a workbench to play with some of the parts he had laid out on the table.

“Really?” he responded. It hit her the wrong way, that all-too-eager tone.

She bit her lip, realizing she had worded that wrong. She might as well have said that she had a crush on him, which she did not. She was no school girl, and besides, she had her own little Pyro.

“I mean, I have plenty of friends on my team, but none of them get engineering,” she explained, hastily, “Not many people care to sit down, have a beer, and just chat about something like we’ve done.”

“Heh,” he nodded, putting a set of batteries into a small box.

It took Shelly a few moments to realize that the box was an old radio. It was older than any radio she had seen in person. It must have been from the fifties or earlier. She almost gasped at seeing it.

“That there looks like an antique!” was what came out of her mouth.

He chuckled, his face reddening a bit, “Bit of an antique myself.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant,” she felt the heat rise to her face.

It quickly became apparent to her that she did not know how old this man was. In fact, she did not know how old any of the resident mercenaries were. They could have been as old as them. But with the way they talked, being a bit out of sorts with the times, she could only guess that as male mercenaries they had been hired long before any of the female mercenaries.

She opened her mouth to ask a question, but then slammed it shut. She would not want to talk about her own age, so she doubted he wanted to talk about his own age. It seemed like a taboo topic. Add the fact that they were all practically immortal and the whole thing was rendered either pointless or even more taboo. Who would want anybody to know that they were decades older than they appeared?

The little walkie at her belt crackled and a voice came through to break the silence, “Demo? Demo? Demo where are you?”

She snickered at hearing the French girl’s voice over the radio frequencies. The girls were always over-using these things to find each other. Back in the mountains it was a great idea so nobody would get lost in the wilderness, but it seemed rather funny, given how flat and open the land was here. There were too many people around for somebody to get lost.

She pulled the walkie talkie off her belt and pressed the speech button, “Try a different frequency, Adaliz.”

“Oh…er, thanks Engie,” the voice disappeared as the girl moved on to the next channel.

Shelly chuckled again as she clipped the walkie talkie to her belt again, “Kid doesn’t know how to just go look for people. Spent too much time up in that forest gettin’ lost.”

Alan chuckled, “Least you got those…er…talkies…” He paused to scratch his neck, mulling over the word.

“It’s called a walkie talkie,” she giggled.

“I knew that, I was getting there,” he smiled sheepishly, “Been a while since we used any dog gone useful things like walkie talkies.”

“Was starting to think you might be too ancient to know what a walkie talkie was!” she teased.

“Nah, I ain’t that old,” he chuckled, “Just haven’t kept with times.”

Shelly chuckled, “We haven’t done so well at keepin’ up with the times either. I suppose Sniper might be more aware of the times than most of us are. But speaking of which, I was thinkin’ about launching a satellite.”

“Say what now?” he hesitated, taken aback by the proposal.

“Back in the mountains we didn’t have much in the way of clear space where enemies would not mess with our work, but out here everything’s flat and spacious,” she explained, a smile spreading across her face, “And it would be a great platform from which to launch our own satellite.”

“What d’you want to do that for?” he asked, tilting his head slightly, almost like a Pyro would.

Shelly chuckled, “Internet and such. We don’t get much connection from the places we are, but with our own satellite to bounce off of wherever we direct it, we could do a bit more. Hell, might even be able to stay in touch with you here in the Bad Lands when we get shipped off to wherever.”

“Internet…” the word lulled on his tongue for a while, “That don’t sound like somethin’ I ought to have overlooked.”

“It’s a huge part of everything today,” Shelly stated. She could not help but feel that he must have been here longer than her to have missed that, and she had been here a whole twenty three years. “The way people connect, the way you get news, stuff like that,” she explained, “Most of America uses it in their daily lives. So yea, kinda important. Many of my teammates have been aching to get their hands on something to contact family members and old friends.”

The man hummed in thought. He rubbed his forehead as he pondered this explanation. She could not quite see his eyes behind the goggles though. Those seemed like the most important features on this man, as seeing where he was looking might have told her what he was thinking, but she could not be sure.

“Seems interesting,” he finally said, “I’d like to learn more about it. But I don’t reckon you know how to put a satellite in space.”

“Just some rocket thrusters to get it into orbit,” she explained.

“Just rocket science,” he chuckled.

She nodded, “You would be surprised. Once you figure out the logistics of it…any kid with a science kid can launch a rocket.”

“I know that from experience,” he chuckled, “Always did like space.”

“Well then, how would you like to help me build some rocket powered satellite?” she offered.

He grinned at the prospect, offering a hand, as if to make a deal, “That sounds like a dandy idea.”

“Settled then!” she accepted his hand with one hand, while her other hand put the beer to her mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some things will eventually be explained, I promise. I am planning at least 20+ chapters for this story, I just like to pace it better. I don't want to make anything disjointed or fill too much with exposition or character establishment. I want a natural flow.
> 
> That said, I'll take your suggestions and questions, just know that I do have a plan and don't want to spoil anything if your question/suggestion is related to something I've already planned.


	5. Sunday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some of the mercenaries spend their Sundays a little differently than others.

The familiar yelling woke Shelly, “Fuck’s sake!”

She leaped out of bed before she realized that she did not have her prosthetic on. The floor gave out from under her and she flailed for balance. She was no longer balanced and strong enough to stand on one foot though, so her body tipped and sent her one way to the floor. She peeled herself off the floor, mumbling a few curses to herself as she clambered to don her prosthetic.

It was Sunday, the day Shelly would normally sleep in. It was a time for quiet and peace, for various reasons. Sunday was the best in Shelly’s opinion, the time she had to make it count before they had to work on Monday.

Another voice started yelling nonsensically, joining in the Soldier’s wild bellowing. “Can’t wait to see this pathetic scene,” she pulled her prosthetic on under her sweat pants, chuckling as she thought about the soldier dressed down in his American flag boxers.

When she stepped out, she found that he American soldier had his full attire on. He was yelling loudly, but he was standing still this time. In front of him, dressed down to English flag boxers, with a teddy bear in hand was the other Soldier, screaming equally loudly. They both looked like idiots, but this time it was the Brit who out idioted the annoying Soldier.

“Shut up you two!” she barked at them.

They stopped and turned to her, blinking with astonishment – perhaps that she was there. They seemed to have gotten caught up in their yelling. She thought that perhaps it was a Soldier thing, and they could not handle themselves on a quiet Sunday.

“If you’re going to yell, go put some clothes on and go outside!” she pointed at the Brit.

He smiled, “Okay!”

The other Soldier stomped a foot, standing erect and at attention, “I am an apparition! I will go where I please! And I will yell where I want! And I will haunt you all!”

Shelly sighed and rolled her eyes, “You’re not a ghost, Soldier.”

“Your logic is broken!” the Soldier barked in response.

She simply shook her head and returned to her room. She did not like that this was becoming a sort of routine outside of her room. She felt bad wishing the American would bug somebody else, but then she felt bad for wishing that on her teammates.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Sniper sidled up to the door with a failing sense of confidence. It had been strangely enjoyable to have somebody to hang out with while shooting. He had planned out the day better this time, with a box of ice and various drinks – nonalcoholic so he would not make an idiot of himself – placed at the spot he would be shooting from. He already had an extra crate of ammunition set up out there, in case they decided to stay out so long their faces grew red from the sun.

He knocked tentatively at the door, but upon the second knock the door hit him. He stumbled back and out of the way as the petite Medic flung a flailing American Soldier out the door.

“Take your Soldier!” she barked angrily.

Sniper did not comply, but let his comrade instead fall to the floor. The man flailed and then jumped off the ground. He spun to face the Medic, his face set with stubbornness. He was ready to start a fight that Sniper did not think the Medic was ready for at this hour of the morning.

“Pardon me, doc,” he turned to the Medic, “I was wonderin’ if the Sniper was in? I don’t want to intrude or nothing.”

The Medic gave him a calculating look from his boots up to his aviators. She paused to shift her glasses up her sloping nose. She had this look about her like she might just lash out with a furious tongue, much like the German Medic would. Her height, being quite small in comparison to the Sniper, made her much less intimidating than the tall broad Medic who would send chills down his teammates’ spines. He could not find her intimidating on her own.

“Good, then do not intrude,” she growled at him, ignoring his question.

He rubbed his neck, feeling awkward about the situation, “Ah yea…I won’t, but I just wanted to ask the Sniper-”

She cut him off with a snarling expression, “Sniper, leave my teammates alone. They’ll see you when they see you. We have reasons for having our own space, and you’ll do well to accept and respect that. Do you understand?”

He flinched, his cheeks growing hot. He understood that there were reasons they had their own space. It came down to more than genders or sexes, or whatever. He was sure they wanted their space and their privacy to do what they needed to. At the same time, there was no way to contact them from beyond the door that separated the North Upstairs wing from the rest of the base.

“I just have a question for her,” he insisted, kicking himself mentally for the fervent tone in his voice.

“Sniper, like yourself, likes her space. Respect that and she’ll be out to see you…eventually,” she stated firmly.

He nodded, his gaze turning to his feet. He felt so embarrassed and silly for being there. Why had he even gone there? He did not know what he expected to accomplish by trying to bond more with this other Sniper. There was not much he stood to gain from it, from what he could think of. He did not even know why he went through the trouble of planning out the day like this, to invite her out like he was some kind of social man – a gentleman with an understanding of social graces like Spy.

He barely muttered under his breath, not really saying a full sentence or line. He shuffled away from the door, turning to head back down the hallway. He heard her grumble something rude before closing the door.

He picked up his stride as he hurried down the stairs and through the mess hall. The base was still quiet. Nobody was really up yet, other than Soldier. They would cherish the weekend before work. Sniper on the other hand would use the time to shoot some desert critters.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Sofia sighed as she shouldered her gun. She normally would not go out on Sundays. She stayed in and prayed. She fasted. She gave her full attention to Allah and prayer.

But something was tugging at her heart. Something was telling her that it was not right. Allah knew her better than any, and she was sure it was Allah summoning her to act upon good human graces.

Upon hearing about the male Sniper, she felt a bit flattered and a bit uncertain. She had not intended to give him any kind of idea that perhaps she was interested in him. But, after hearing that the Medic had turned him away, and with scorn, she felt compelled. She was not interested in him, no. There was something nice about the man’s company during shooting practice though.

She could tell that he was the quiet type, and that every time he spoke was forced and awkward for him. She had witnessed this behavior in many men. He was not one for social graces. Which made sense, when the Medic admitted that perhaps they had scorned the man too harshly for how he quietly sidled away.

“Allah forgive me,” she whispered in Arabic, as she clipped her water bottle to her belt, “For today was to be your day. Now I give it to my friend. I know you understand me.”

She double checked her attire before she marched out into the midday sun. It had risen halfway already, half of the day already spent on prayer and fasting. She would continue to fast, with only her water to sustain her, but she would give some time to the poor Sniper.

When she stomped out to the spot she had followed him to the previous day, she found him sniping, but he was down on one knee, back straight and eyes focused on his scope. He was almost too focused to notice her, until he caught the shifting of rocks and sand beneath her feet. He jerked at the sound, reaching for his kukri defensively.

When he saw her, he blinked for a moment. He hesitated, a bit uncertain of himself. He raised the defensive hand to push his yellowish aviators up his nose.

“Hi there,” he mumbled.

She smiled and gave him a small wave, “Mind if I join you?”

“Oh, not at all,” he gave her a small meek smile.

She thought about this smile for a few moments. He was a rugged looking man who matched the appearance of a mercenary. His sun beaten appearance fit the type of man who was used to the outdoors and working. His worn, scarred and callused body held evidence enough that he was a fighter. It was sweet to see such a smile – nay it was a relief to see such a smile. He was a human beneath the mercenary exterior, just like her. He was different in his personal life and in his mind than he was on the battlefield. She just hoped that the two did not correspond too closely when they got down to facing the BLUs.

She dropped to one knee nearby and pulled her rifle off of her shoulder. She smiled as she made quick work of the gun and searched for the target. This was not a man who needed her there for words. He did not need her there because she was a woman. He did not want a companion to share thoughts and feelings.

The smile told her that he was glad to see her, but his rugged mercenary exterior and the return of focus to his task were all she needed to know. They were mercenaries of a similar breed. They were Snipers by class, and that made them special in their own way, which made being around each other all the more unique in a way.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Demo groaned as he rose from the infirmary bed. He rubbed his eye with a tired sigh, “Don’t tell me, somebody hit me with a bloody bottle didn’t they?”

A low chuckle responded to him. The woman rose from her seat and slinked across the room. As his eye popped open, she came into view at the side of the bed, luckily the right side, where he had his good eye. It was easier to see her from this angle.

“You were slobberin’ all over the pool table,” the Jamaican accent put him off a moment. He had to remind himself of where he was and who she was – especially why she was there. “Brought you to the infirmary, but it seems you just needed to sleep,” she chuckled again.

“And what did you do with the last of my scrumpy?” he demanded, hoping to be handed a bottle. Most of his friends would have brought the bottle with them, knowing he would ask for it.

“Probably still sitting on the pool table,” the woman shrugged.

“Or gone,” a thicker voice came from across the room.

His eye turned to see the other woman, a darker, taller, more thickly built woman. She had deep brown eyes that took him in with a similarly pensive gaze as their resident Russian Heavy. But, when she realized that they were making eye contact for so long, she turned her face away.

He turned back to the smaller woman, a petite and fretful creature with a mess of dreadlocks coming out the back of her bandana, “Where you get off laying a teammate out?”

She gave him a crooked toothy grin, “Ya needed a nap is all!”

“Nein!” they heard the doctor bark.

He turned to see the German man fiddling with his paperwork. He looked a bit irritated, like having company around was making his work more difficult. In truth, Demo did not see why the Medic was always so against having company around, he needed to be more social than he was. Yet, the man insisted that everybody was always in his way, even when their questions were less than obvious and did necessitate his answer, in spite of his claims to the contrary.

“We’ll be outta your hair in no time,” the smaller of the two woman said, flinging an arm wildly in gesture towards the Medic, “Just hold onto your buttocks!”

Demo groaned again, “You’re a wee saucy lass but that’s not goin’ to make you a good Demo.”

She turned her attention back to him, as he swung his legs off the edge of the bed. She was studying him pensively, taking him in fully. She finally shook her head to herself. She muttered something, but her accent covered the meaning, so he was not sure what to make of her comment.

She turned to the other woman in the room, “Have you seen a single one of these black Scottish men have more’n one eye?”

The woman flinched, realizing she was being called upon again. She looked from the smaller woman to Demo, with thoughtful eyes. They were soft kind eyes, but they had a touch of shyness to them. She turned her gaze to the floor and shook her head, saying nothing more.

The Jamaican woman laughed, slapping her knee, “That’s got to be proof.” She turned to the man with that big toothy grin, “One eye and you think you can be a half decent Demoman? Have you any idea what is required in the field? The depth perception isn’t something you can guess at, mon!”

The soft cooing of the Medic’s flock caught the woman’s attention. Her head shot up and she looked at them with curious scrutiny. After a while of looking over them, she turned her attention to the Medic.

“How many of these pigeons you keep in ‘ere?” she asked.

The Medic raised his eyes over the rims of his glasses. The Demo knew the man could not see well without those lenses, but they were so darn small there was no point in trying to push them up, when he would need them down for his work. The thought made him chuckle, as it was more about the expression he was giving her.

“Those aren’t pigeons,” the German growled. He hated his birds being judged like that, but Demo was not about to stop the woman from making a mess of her situation.

“The buds,” she pressed.

Demo cocked an eyebrow at her. He had never heard that word used in the context before. He figured the birds were friends or pals to the doctor, but that was not something easily gleaned form first glance of the pets. That was more of something one found out when they were just waking up from a drug that should have kept them out for another few hours, to the doctor fiddling with their innards, talking to his birdies.

“What?” the doctor quirked an eyebrow at her.

“How many a’ these buds you keep in here, Don Medic,” she responded.

“What are you saying?” the Medic asked, finally pushing his glasses up his nose with one finger.

“The buds,” the woman stated, her raspy voice taking on a breathy tone, “How many buds are in here, Don Medic?”

“English, please,” the Medic growled.

The Demo chuckled as he realized that the Medic was not picking up her words through her accent. The man was fairly attentive to most tunes, so it was comical to see the man finally grow frustrated with a foreign accent. He was never one with patience, but a foreigner speaking English like it was distant from there tongue was something he usually handled well. He was the only one to have such patience as to try and help the Heavy with his English enunciation, only correcting him when it mattered most. Otherwise, he could at least understand Demoman’s slurrings or the Sniper’s backwoods slang.

“I’m speaking English, Don Medic!” she exclaimed, heating up with frustration.

“Then what is it you are trying to ask me?” he asked.

“About the buds,” she pressed, “I’m askin’ about your buds, Don Medic.”

“What?” the Medic only looked more confused, and it was making Demo laugh. The Medic shot him a nasty glare for it.

“Birds,” the quiet one finally spoke up. All eyes turned to her, but she was not deterred, “She has an accent, but she is saying birds.”

“The buds,” the Jamaican woman nodded in agreement, “I say the buds. You say they not pigeons. So how many are they?”

Demo noticed that the woman’s speech pattern had become more and more slurred as she relaxed. Perhaps she had a bit of scrumpy for herself, or perhaps she was just a little more relaxed about speaking. He could not imagine how she would become more comfortable speaking more loosely around the Medic, who was a hard-head about proper English, proper mannerisms, and overall formal attitude.

“You are drunk,” the Medic finally stated.

“I’m buzzed,” the woman shook her head, “If I was wasted, I wouldn’t be here. Would I?” She directed the question at her friend, who shook her head. “Naw, I’d be upstairs with me key and having some fun.” She turned a smile to her taller friend, but the woman simply blushed and hardened her stare at her toes.

The Medic looked to the Demoman with confusion. He shrugged in response, “I dunno what she’s saying.”

The woman sighed and turned to Demo. Her English seemed to straighten up immediately, “Sorry I bumped ya. I’m not an unkind person, I jus’ get carried away when drinks go ‘round.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Demo shrugged.

She offered him her hand, “My name is Lucy.”

He nodded in response, “Mine’s Cletis.”

She smiled and threw her thumb at the other woman, “And of course, that’s Nyaga.”

“Nice to meet ya too,” he threw the woman a smile, which caused her to shrink away.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Sofia smiled as they put up their rifles. She would clean the rifle in the evening when she was alone. Normally she would not do that, as she cleaned it on Saturdays. Sunday was still supposed to be her day with Allah, but she could not afford to try to push a cleaning to the morning of battle.

“Snipin’s a good job, yea?” the man broke the silence.

Sofia nodded slowly in response, as she tucked some shells into her pants, with the intention of tossing them into the trash. She was not obsessed with cleaning up the Earth, but she had seen the impact of trash on enough parts of the world. She was not about to add to the ecoterrorism that already existed.

“Thanks for inviting me,” she said, but bit her tongue. Technically he had not invited her, but that was sort of the vibe that came from what the Medic told her.

He shuffled his feet, but he smiled at her awkwardly. He seemed like he did not have the words to say about it.

“We should make this a Saturday thing,” she went on, offering him a smile.

“I shoot every Saturday and every Sunday, so if you ever want to join,” he nodded towards the base, picking up his chair with the hand not already preoccupied with a box of empty shells.

“I’ll be out here next Saturday then!” she chuckled, “Sundays though…Sundays I spend alone.”

“R-right,” he looked at his toes as he moved alongside her.

“I dedicated myself to Allah at a young age,” she explained.

“Erm…” he stumbled, taken off guard by that.

“It is important to me. So I take every Sunday, put it aside, just to quietly meditate in the presence of Allah,” she explained.

“I…um…” he looked like he was not grasping what she was saying.

“Do…do you have a question?” she asked, “Feel free to ask. I don’t mind explaining.”

“Who is Allah?” he asked.

She gave a low chuckle, “Allah is my everything. Allah is love and life. But, I suppose in the Western world, Allah is known more commonly as God. Allah though – this is what we call him in Arabic.”

His jaw was caught open, his lips parted in an “oh” that went unspoken. The realization hit his eyes and his eyebrows shot up. He was more than a little taken aback by the explanation.

“Like I said,” she chuckled again, this time feeling nervous about his expression. It was not easy to tell if it was a good or bad thing that he finally understood what she was talking about. “If you have any questions, I am willing to explain,” she stated.

“Thanks for that,” he said, “I’ve never been very religious.” He motioned to her whole person, as if her body somehow represented religion. “I don’t reckon I’m very familiar with your religion either. Er…whatever that may be…”

She smiled, “I’m Muslim.”

“I see,” he nodded, “I uhh…” He scratched the back of his head and neck as he pondered this. This was a strange topic of discussion for him.

Peering out of the corner of her eye, she could see that his cheeks were turning red. He was not certain about this topic. Perhaps he never really talked about this kind of thing to anybody. It fit the profile of a quiet lonely assassin.

“We could just change the topic,” she stated, picking up a bouncy clip to her step.

He said nothing, but he seemed to relax. He looked a little less tense.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The mess hall was loud with voices. Their noise was bellowing right into the kitchen and filling it with unnecessary loudness. Alan was working with the resident Pyro to cook dinner, but he was finding himself distracted by curiosity at the presence of a third person.

The Medic, a woman a little shorter than himself, with a straight back and pixie haircut, was hovering over a pot of noodles. She was cooking the noodles with a pair of long sticks, which she had explained were cooking chopsticks. She used some other word for them, but had rolled her eyes at having to better explain what they were.

Pyro was distracted by the presence too. The suited man stood at the Engineer’s other side, peering around him once in a while. They were acting as if they were a little intimidated, too intimidated to ask the questions they wanted to ask of the little doctor.

Alan could not imagine how Shelly spent time with the Medic. He had not seen them together, but she talked about her enough so that he understood that they were close. At least to some degree, probably the way he and the resident Medic talked, they were friends.

He avoided her gaze whenever she shot him a haughty glare. She was warily aware of his stare, once in a while. He felt bad about staring but part of him wanted to ask about her cooking.

The night before, she had had no qualms about joining them in eating what was cooked for the entire group. Perhaps she was dissatisfied with that meal and had assumed the quality would be the same based on that one experience. He was tempted to invite her to join them, but he was not entirely sure.

“Does Pyro want to ask me something?” she seemed to be reading minds.

Alan looked to Pyro then to the Medic. He kicked at the floor for no real reason before he answered, “He’s curious about what you’re cooking. Also, you’re welcome to eat with us and such.”

“I’m making a vegetable based ramen,” she stated, stirring the noodles with her chopsticks, “And while I will join you tomorrow, tonight Yukina and I want to eat some traditional foods.”

“Traditional foods?” Alan paused to look at the food, “Looks like Asian cuisine to me.”

“Yes, Engie,” she stated, turning her head to look at him, “Yukina and I are from Japan, so our idea of good food from home is Japanese cuisine.”

“Oh…I’m sorry,” he shrank back, feeling a bit ashamed.

It was a bit confounding but at the same time made sense. Up to this point, he and his teammates had been under the influence that the Medic was American. There was little sign as to where exactly in America she was from, but that seemed to be where this answer filled the gap. If she was from Japan, despite being white, it would explain why her supposed American accent was fuddled by the tongue of somebody used to speaking another language.

“Is there a qualm you have?” the Medic asked, “A quarry, perhaps?”

“No, I’m just wondering,” he stated, flipping the burgers he was cooking. He noted that Pyro was staring directly at the Medic, with what was probably a look of wonder.

“It’s alright to ask questions,” she stated.

“Well, I don’t so much have questions as thoughts,” he explained, “Never met anybody from Japan, personally. But I didn’t reckon a person from Japan could be…erm…” He paused, scratching at his head. He did not want to say American, that would not be quite right.

“White?” she offered, “Blond haired? Blue eyed? American-esque?”

Alan cleared his throat and nudged the Pyro. Pyro scurried to the fridge to pull out some ingredients. 

“That seems rather on the nose,” Alan noted, with a nod, “I suppose that was what I was thinking of, yea.”

“My parents were American,” she explained, turning her full attention back to her pot, “They moved to Japan before I was born. I grew up there. I am American on paper, but Japanese by my upbringing.”

“I see,” Alan looked over to the Medic to see her eyes focused intently on the food in her pot, “I respect that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just about introduced Red. Next chapter will move on to the actual battles against BLU team.
> 
> I wanted to note that I have a preferred style in which I write. As each piece takes a different character's perspective, I like to write from that perspective. Certain people see other people in different ways. And so, there are subtle hints of changes for what each character things and how they think.


	6. First Day of Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the first day of battle, and the new teammates want to prove themselves on the front.

The heat of the desert left the respawn room feeling like a sauna. For the resident mercenaries, this was just the average Monday. For their new coworkers, this heat was a living nightmare wrapped in sand.

“I haven’t been in this much heat since Japan,” Medic wiped their hand across their brow, pushing blond hair back from their eyes. Their bangs were getting a bit long and could probably use a cut, since they did not style as easily as the well-groomed Medic’s ebony locks.

“You’re telling me,” Shelly huffed, “I’m from Ireland. All it does there is rain!”

Yukina, Sofia, Lucy and Nonna laughed at that. Nonna was the one to reach over and pat her shoulder, “I have been to Ireland, and I have seen that this is not true. It has beautiful sunshine days and magnificent rainbows.”

“Yea! With pots of gold at the end!” Lucy teased.

“Knock it off,” the Medic shot her a glare.

“Be ready to blow them to Timbuktu!” the American Soldier announced, hoping to rally some excitement amidst his colleagues.

Medic turned to their colleagues to have a look at them. Most of them had a sheen of sweat already glimmering on their foreheads. Most of them had spent the past twenty or so years up in the cold mountains, where the air was frigid and the choice of clothing was thick. Here they were sweaty and wanted to peel more clothes off than their work – and modesty – allowed.

“Alright, Demo?” the Medic called the Jamaican woman’s attention, “You I want up front with Scout. Adaliz, stick to Lucy, you understand? Don’t leave her in the dust just because you can.”

The Scout groaned, her eyes rolling back in her head, “Are you serious? I’m the fastest member of the team!” She paused, glancing over at some of the men prepping their weapons. She bit her lip, “Maybe the second fastest.”

“I don’t care,” the Medic shook their head, “Stick to Lucy. I want you two to take down any sentries you come across. Derail their scouts. Yukina?” The Medic spun to face the masked Pyro, who gave her a dramatic nod in response. “I want you to be on the lookout for Spy. Avoid Nonna and our other colleague,” they gestured towards the man who was pulling a cigarette from his disguise kit. They did not know his name. “Just go hunting for the BLU Spy and kill any other BLU you come across.”

The Pyro saluted, as if she were in the military. Her back went completely straight and she held her hand to her head like an American Soldier. It was a curious response, as Yukina never usually did this. The Medic glanced over at the American Soldier curiously, wondering if Yukina might be picking up behaviorisms a bit too fast from their new colleagues.

“Medic?” Shelly called her attention.

They gave the woman a nod. They hesitated to take in her haggard face. They had not noticed just how tired she looked in this thick desert heat. It looked like she was not fairing well, compared to the others.

“I’m feeling a mite sore,” the woman explained, “I’m not at my fastest today. But Alan has assured me that he’s got my back. I figured I might as well stick by him and help him with the guns and any Spy that comes his way.”

“Alan?” the Medic blinked at her, confoundedly. Who was this Alan?

“Oh, the Engineer,” Shelly chuckled, motioning over to the bald man packing up his equipment. He smiled and waved at them.

Medic nodded, “Alright, but don’t fall behind if he gets hit.”

Shelly nodded in response, “Got it.”

Medic turned to the Russian woman, who was busy grooming her nails, “Nonna, I need you working closely with our new colleague.”

“Colleague?” Nonna’s eyes scanned the assortment of men before returning to her nails, “Which are you speaking of?”

“Whom am I speaking of,” the Medic responded, “And I speak of the Spy. You two should be working together, create a plan of espionage. If at all possible, get the scouts to the intel.”

The Spy responded with a roll of her eyes and a heavy sigh, as she headed towards the masked man. She did not give a word of submission, just an assumed answer behind that ridiculously childish act of hers.

The Medic took a deep breath as they turned to the others. Soldier was missing from the group, and upon searching, they found that he was socializing with the resident men. He had his usual smile, like the ridiculous moron that he was. Medic decided to leave him to do what he would, as he would likely forget anything said to him anyways.

“Sofia,” the Medic spun to face the Middle Eastern woman. She jerked to attention, raising her eyes to meet the Medic’s. “I want you to follow the resident Sniper, let him show you where the best spots are. I want you to be our eyes and ears overall. Got it?”

Sofia tucked her earpiece in, pushing a button to ignite its little blue light, “Got it, doc.”

“Good,” they turned just in time for the tallest of the group to appear in front of them.

The tall gangly woman towered over the Medic’s head by near two feet. She was muscularly broad, but not quite as thick as the resident Heavy – who looked like a giant in his own right. Her soft dark eyes smiled down at the Medic, even if her lips were in a straight line.

“You and I go together, doctor?” she asked. It was not really a question, as both of them knew the answer. It used to be a request, because Nyaga did not want to be out on the battlefield alone, but nowadays it was understood that even in their team, the Heavy and the Medic went into battle together.

“Hai- I mean, yes,” the Medic cleared their throat and straightened their glasses.

Old habits died hard, even the ones that should not be around for the past two decades. And for the Medic, as they heard the call of the old woman bellowing over the speakers, it was difficult to avoid the habits created over the past two decades. Their thumb played over the cylindrical loadout of the dart gun, though it should have been out of mind with the more important machinery out and ready. As the countdown began, the raise of their hackles brought their heart to a racing pace.

They took steady breaths to calm themselves. They had to be calm and think clearly. They decided to distract themselves by checking the earpiece to make sure its sound came through clearly.

The gates flew open and the Scouts bolted out. Medic immediately clicked the button on their belt, a remote that connected to their ear piece, “Scout! Remember Lucy!”

“Got it, doc!” Adaliz’s voice came through the speaker, but the Scout did not reappear, as Lucy loped out after her.

The Medic sighed and remained at Nyaga’s side. They only hoped the foolish Frenchwoman would stick to her promise and keep in step with the Demo.

Nyaga shifted her minigun and loped out of the gates, pushing out after the Snipers. Both Snipers darted the same way, Sofia following after the tall lanky Aussie. Nyaga rounded a corner and quickly opened fire on what sounded like an enemy Scout, from the screams that followed.

“Let’s go, doctor!” Nyaga called, picking up a faster pace. Despite carrying such heavy machinery, Nyaga was fairly fast on her feet, with a long stride that left the Medic in the dust quite often.

Medic did not respond, but simply kept a healing beam pointed on the teammate. They skirted to the side, keeping to a building’s wall where they might find better cover than if they kept to the open. They were wary for both the Sniper and Spy of the enemy team, one being something they could not miss if his aim was good, and the other would have to take a body slam if he came too close.

Medic heard the scream of an American boy and their head jerked. At first, they were going to ignore it, but the red uniform meant that it was none other than their own teammate. They would not abandon the boy to die, when he could be pushing forward with the others.

They pressed the talk button for the earpiece again, “Sniper, cover the Heavy. I’m going to heal the Scout. Adaliz, give me a follow up on how you and Lucy are doing!”

“On it!” was Sofia’s response.

Medic ducked out of the way, headed towards the wounded scout. A Pyro was charging towards him, flames already broiling from its weapon. The medic pulled out the syringe gun and fired several shots to the face. Without losing the momentum, the Medic grabbed the boy by the arm and yanked him to his feet.

He cried out in pain and protested against the movement. Still, the Medic had to move him away from the Pyro to avoid further burn damage. So they flung his arm around their shoulders and quickly carried half of his weight – dragged the rest – to a safer zone for healing.

“God dammit!” the Scout hissed, relieved when the healing beams hit him, “Thanks doc.”

“No problem,” they pushed their glasses up to the bridge of their nose, “Head in after Scout and Demo. They are pushing forward. We need to push.”

“That’s what we do!” the Scout leaped to his feet, swung his bat around and darted off.

“No wait!” the Medic called after him, but it was too late.

“I’m at their respawn, but Lucy died,” Adaliz’s voice finally came through the connection.

Medic sighed with contempt as they headed out to meet the Heavy again. They were not so patient as to let the foolish girl play around with the match, “Adaliz fall back. Come meet with me at the Heavy.”

They would have to wait for Lucy’s respawn. It would take at least ten minutes. That was ten minutes of fighting lost without a Demolitions Expert.

That was, they were down by one Demolitions Expert. The Scottish accent hit their ears as if it were an angel’s song. When they looked, they found the man up on a roof, throwing explosives in every direction he could. He had already taken out a Soldier and the Pyro who still had the syringe needles sticking out of its face.

“What now Medic?” they heard Adaliz’s voice before they saw Adaliz.

Medic pointed to the Scottish man on the roof, “Group with him, see if he’ll push forward with you. Do not go forward alone!”

“You got it, doc!” Adaliz gave them a two fingered salute before darting off to meet with the Demo.

Screaming caught Medic’s ear as a screaming Scout and masked Spy came barreling towards them. They were being chased by the BLU Heavy, who was being pocketed by the BLU Medic. This was not an unfamiliar tactic and the Medic already knew that it would be a simpler solution to have the Sniper take out the Heavy. A Heavy against a Heavy was not the match to have, mowing each other down.

“Sofia, Medic pocketed Heavy is charging Nyaga,” Medic clicked the remote to the earpiece.

“We see ‘em,” Sofa responded, with some muffled man’s voice in the background.

When the Medic came into full view and saw them, his face lit up. His creepy smile, his groomed brow and his strong visage took on an excited look. He had spotted his new medical adversary and was quite humored by how they looked.

He did not have a chance to aim his medigun, shouting about being fully charged, because a single shot to the head downed him. His colleague turned to look, but he took was taken by a Sniper shot. And with that, Nyaga charged forward, giving the Medic enough cover to turn their attention to the wounded Scout and Spy.

“Thank you,” the Spy spoke eloquently, despite what appeared to be a swelling bruise on his mouth. It was quickly cleared up by the medigun, but only just after he spoke.

“You’re a lot faster and bettah at this than you look,” the Scout cheered.

“Scout!” the Frenchman spat, “That’s rude!”

“Medic! Imma kill that kid!” Lucy’s voice crackled over the earpiece.

“Who?” Adaliz responded.

“You! You half-witted baguette eating twit!” Lucy shouted. Her voice was shrill enough to hurt the Medic’s ear, causing them to throw a hand to their ear, instinctively. “When I get my hands on you, Imma make you scream!”

Medic clicked the remote, “Lucy, get to the front! Adaliz, you had better be doing what I told you!”

“I’m covering the Demo here! It’s not so easy with you yacking in my ear!” Adaliz shouted over the echo of gunshots, “I can’t carry this team’s weight you know!”

Medic growled as they clicked the remote again, “Engineer, move your gear up.”

“Already on the move, doc!” Shelly responded.

“You are speaking to whom?” the Spy in front of Medic asked, confused by their growling.

They removed their gloved hand from their ear, “To the front, push forward! Move!” They grabbed the Scout and flung him forward, in hopes that he might catch up to the other Scout. “Go find Adaliz and help Demo distract them at spawn!”

“Is that what we’re doin’?” the boy asked.

“Yes, now go!” they barked, before turning to the Spy, “Did you speak with Nonna at all?”

Everything felt like it was falling apart. They were too distracted to be doing their job. This was all too much, with too many people to worry about. There seemed to be no one leader for the resident team, as many teams were like this. And with the Heavy moving into a thicker area of heavy fire, they could not afford to be distracted at this moment.

“Non,” was the man’s response.

“No?” they were taken aback.

“She attempted to flirt, so I cloaked,” he shrugged.

Medic growled with irritation. They were irritated at both spies. They were frustrated at Nonna for acting so childish and playful around these men, who were obviously not interested in her game. And she was frustrated with this Spy for not thinking ahead about planning the way Spies should. At least, the Spies they used to fight against on BLU team were all the types who planned ahead.

They clicked the earpiece’s talk button, “Nonna, where are you?”

Nothing answered them for a long time. They were forced to simply growl with frustration as they stomped off to heal the Heavy. Nyaga was taking way too much damage, with blood leaking from her arms and shoulders. She would soon get tired of carrying that gun.

They threw a look over their shoulder at the Spy, “Get to the BLU base, find Nonna, and work together!”

The Spy vanished into thin air, the way Spies do. The Medic only wished they knew if they could trust the Spy enough to do as he was told. They certainly could not trust Nonna to do as she was requested.

The blaze of bullets and explosives lasts for over an hour, before Medic got a look at the BLU base. They were about a heart’s beat away from getting inside. But they did not simply charge in willy nilly, nor did they send anybody randomly. That was not the way of the game.

Medic clicked the earpiece’s talk button, “Adaliz, what’s your status?”

“I’m camping respawn!” the girl laughed, “The Demos, Scout and I are having a blast up here! You should join us! Their Soldier is so freaking stupid! You should see this! It’s phenomenal!”

“Yes yes, I see,” the Medic interrupted, “Nonna, what’s your status?”

“Spy is headed for our base,” Sofia’s voice interrupted.

“Shit,” Medic muttered.

They were so close to their own victory, they could not afford to turn back. They could deal with a Spy later. Right now their mission was to retrieve intel from their BLU opponents.

“Nonna, where are you?” the Medic demanded.

“Upstairs area of the BLU base,” Sofia answered for her.

“What is she doing there alone?” Medic demanded.

“Being trapped like an animal,” Sofia replied, “I can see her from here, but no shots I can make to help.”

“Alright,” Medic pondered through their options quickly, “Soldier, move up to the respawn and replace the Scouts. Adaliz, take Scout with you and regroup with Spy!”

“On it!” Adaliz responded.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Spy pressed his back against the wall, peering carefully around a corner. The Pyro had gone through respawn and was already being cautious about the hallway it was moving through. Its heavy weapon swung to and fro, just waiting for somebody to dare come near it.

He waited under his cloak, as the fully suited creature passed him by. He moved stealthily into the hallway and made his way towards the stairs. He had already gleaned the location of his female counter part, but getting to her was difficult, with how close she was to the intel.

“Which way?” a familiar Frenchwoman’s voice came echoing down the hall.

“It’s this way,” that familiar Boston boy’s voice followed.

“Merde,” he murmured, as he turned to see the pair padding down the hallway towards the stairs.

The woman stumbled as they just passed him, “Did you hear something?”

“Just a teammate,” he replied, but did not let down his cloak.

“Hey! Spy!” the boy’s voice was light-hearted and full of chuckles.

“You idiots are going to get us killed!” Spy growled.

“Oh yea? Let’s see you get the intel al-” the boy was cut off by an explosive shot to the head.

The female Scout bounded towards the Spy, ducking behind the wall for cover from the Soldier. She quickly pulled out and loaded her scatter gun.

“You should keep that loaded every time it runs out,” the Spy scorned.

She did not miss a beat as she retorted in French, “Make me, daddy.”

He was taken aback by the response, mostly because he was not expecting it. He imagined it was meant to be something of a taunt, but there was something that tugged at him and bothered him about it. He definitely did not like her saying that to him, even if nobody else heard or understood it.

She reached around the corner and fired off two shots, before she darted for the stairs. He quickly followed after her, trying to keep up with her quick steps. She was fast like any other Scout, too fast for him to actually keep up. He made do, panting his way up the stairs behind her. He was surprised to find that she had actually stopped at the top and waited for him.

“You make it Spy?” she asked, staring at thin air.

He chuckled and decloaked, “You don’t have to wait for old men, I’ll make do.”

She shook her head, “Not on this team. We’re a team, yea? Let’s go get Nonna together!”

He nodded at her enthusiasm and followed as she led the way. It was bizarre to Spy that things were labeled in both bases. Whether it was about intelligence or secrets, any room that hid anything of importance was not exactly hidden, it was labeled openly for the stupidest of mercenaries to find it. That was one of many things he did not like about this whole war, because he was not allowed to remove any of the labels on their own base.

“This way?” she asked, uncertainly, pointing in the direction she was already moving.

“As the signs indicate, yes,” he nodded.

He was cut off by the sound of a sentry, making its usual squeaking and humming noise. He reached out to grab the girl but missed as she flinched. He was surprised by the movement, having intended to pull her to safety. Her response was that of somebody who did not trust or thought they were being attacked. The second time he managed to grab her upper arm and pull her out of the line of shot of a sentry.

“Oh jeez, thanks,” she said, with a relieved sigh.

“No problem,” he reached into his suit and pulled out a sapper. He paused to peer carefully around the corner, kneeling to the floor. With a smooth sweeping motion, he sent the sapper soaring across the floorboards to the sentry, taking out its power.

“Alright! Let’s go!” the Scout cheered, moving onward.

“Sentry down!” he heard the enemy Engineer call out.

“Not on my watch, lad!” the enemy Demo responded, “Come here lass!”

A coy disembodied voice responded to them, “Come and find me, boys.”

“Come and get your come uppin’s Spy!” the Engineer yelled. He came around the corner, just in time to duck out of the way of Scout’s scattergun.

“She over there lad?” they heard the Demo ask.

“No, just a French Spy and a girl Scout,” the Engineer responded.

Spy took the girl by her sleeve, pulling her to where neither enemy could get the drop on them. He could hear the squeak and hum of another sentry in the hallway they were in. They would have to get past these two men and their sentry in order to head for the intelligence room.

“I am not a girl! I am a full grown woman, you insolent buffoon!” the Scout shouted angrily.

A few moments of silence were followed by laughter. “Make that two French croissants!” the Engineer howled with laughter.

The Scout started towards the open hallway, her hands balled into fists. Spy reached out and grabbed her again, pulling her back. He would not risk the girl’s health for her anger.

“Don’t let them get under your skin,” he warned.

“Listen to him Adaliz,” the female Spy appeared beside him. He was unimpressed by how she entered, given that she probably was going to let Adaliz charge into danger.

Adaliz’s face started turning red, “We need to get to that intel.”

“Well, isn’t it grand that you’re here then?” Nonna chuckled, “Because I have a plan!”

“Make it quick, we don’t have much time before they try something stupid,” he growled, hoping her playful tone would soon turn more serious.

“You sap the sentry,” she pointed to him, her voice dropping low, “Engineer will take the bait.”

“And then?” the Scout pressed, bouncing impatiently on her toes.

“Then we dance your favorite dance,” Nonna eyed the Scout with a look that unsettled the girl.

“Oui, let’s do this,” he dropped to one knee, pulling a sapper out and throwing it to the sentry in one fluid motion.

“Dag nabbit!” the Engineer did indeed head for his sentry.

Before the Spy could ask, Nonna grabbed the Scout and began to twirl her around. As they moved, their hands moved to grab their guns, jolting to send bullets at the enemies, but their feet were moving in sync. He was not unfamiliar with the movements of dance, and while their upperbodies were focused on shooting, their feet moved together in what looked like something they had rehearsed.

“You’re rusty, Adaliz,” the Russian Spy’s chuckled rolled playfully over the shorter woman’s head.

The youth ducked her face, as she turned red. She put her hands over her face and followed quietly after the Spy, as they headed towards the intelligence room. He could hear her cussing softly in French. It brought a twinge of a smile to his lips, seeing how adorably embarrassed she was.

“Here it is,” Nonna stumbled when they entered the room.

That was when he noticed the wound at her hip, dripping red down her pants. The color of her uniform, like every RED uniform, seemed to blend the blood in well. And her fluid step had hidden the pain of the wound prior to this. But after dancing about and further movements, the woman’s leg had become heavier in a sense.

“You been shot,” Adaliz stated, coming out of her hands to speak up.

“Yes, but we have the intelligence now,” Nonna replied with a nod.

“Let us move quickly,” Spy interjected, reaching for the briefcase on the desk.

“Patience love,” the female Spy held out a hand, with no intention of actually touching him.

She reached into her outfit and pulled out what looked like a handle. With the click of a button, a set of lights animated some blue hues. Slowly, it formed into a real-looking briefcase.

She handed this to the Scout, “Let’s play our cheeky game with these BLUs.”

“My part’s distraction?” Adaliz nodded, it was not a real question but rather an observation.

“And I’ll be playing into death,” Nonna nodded.

“Got it!” Adaliz gave a two fingered salute, “I’ll get these guys off your backs!”

Without a moment’s warning the Scout darted for the door and went tramping down the hallway. There were no immediate threats for her to face, so she hurried on to the first floor.

“You could have given her the briefcase to take back!” the Spy scoffed.

He watched as she pulled a small box of tools out of her jacket’s inner pocket. She began pulling pieces apart on the actual briefcase.

“And risk losing the intel?” she snickered, as she managed to unlock and open the case.

“We’re losing time!” he hissed, losing patience out of fear of getting caught. He knew BLU Sniper would look in this window soon, scanning for Spies.

“We have plenty of time,” she said, calmly, “Adaliz is giving us time.” 

He realized that she was right. Seeing the Scout with a blue briefcase would definitely turn their attentions away. He only hoped the little Scout would last long enough for this insufferably slow woman to finish playing with the case.

She removed the papers and began tucking them into a tear in her clothes. Once they were safely filed away, she sewed the jacket shut.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Playing the part of death,” she said, as she tucked the little box of tools away. She pressed something that looked like gum to the inside of the box’s latch before closing it.

“You think after seeing Scout they are going to believe that their intel wasn’t stolen?” he asked.

“No, but they’ll be curious,” she snickered, “And when they are? Boom!” She made her fingers flash as if they were an explosion.

“What is the rest of your brilliant plan?” he demanded.

“Kill me,” she pulled out her diamond back, pointing the handle towards him.

“Intelligence doesn’t work that way,” he insisted.

“The intelligence is tracked by the briefcase,” she sighed with an irritated roll of her eyes, “Tucking loose papers doesn’t work to get around cheating. But clothes? Clothes aren’t scanned like loose items. Usually if you put a loose screw in your pocket, you respawn with a loose screw in your pocket, right? It doesn’t recognize clothes stuffing as being loose papers, so it is not going to worry about it when I respawn.”

“And you think this will actually work?” he checked to see that the gun was loaded.

“I know it works,” she chuckled, delighted in her own knowledge of the cheat, “Just as long as the BLUs don’t figure out and Administration doesn’t tell them, we’re in the clear.”

He raised the barrel of the pistol. Without question, she leaned forward, pressing her forehead to the end of the barrel. He could tell that it was still hot as it began to turn her skin red. Her eyes turned up to meet his, as if expecting some reaction from his face.

She simply smiled, “Pull the trigger. And I’ll meet you at respawn.”

“How do we ring this in as a victory?” he demanded, his hand moving the gun slightly.

She chuckled again, “You let our teammates worry about that part.”

He sighed and let off two shots into her head. He doubled down with a third shot, just to be sure she died quickly. He was not a cruel man, so he would not show such behavior towards a teammate.

He could just pull the trigger on himself and leave two dead Spy bodies by what appeared to be the BLU’s briefcase. But, like all mercenaries, he despised the feeling of death and the terrifying experience of going through respawn. He did not have to do that, so he decided instead to tuck the pistol away and make his way out under cloak. He was glad he cloaked when he did, as the Engineer returned to rebuild his defensive sentries, all the while groaning about a fake briefcase.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick translations:  
> Oui - Yes (French)  
> Hai - Yes (Japanese)
> 
> I'll be getting to more names soon. I have been waiting to get to the battle. Like an itchy trigger finger.


	7. Cheap Tricks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new mercenaries have a few tricks up their sleeves that are unfamiliar to the old vets. Some are willing to learn from them while others are bitter about what seems like a set of cheats.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I have updated the description. I have adjusted slightly how this plot is going to go, but not by much.

“That’s a shit cheat,” Scout growled, adding to the bitter tension in the room. He had been pretty bitter about being offed just before his chance to aid in bringing back the intel.

“It’s not as if we lost, lad,” the Demoman offered half-heartedly.

“Yea but…” Scout could not think of anything as he stared at the neck of his beer bottle.

“Scout shouldn’t be sore,” the Heavy interjected, “It was good win. Was a quick match. Rest of day is spent keeping intel safe.”

“That Spy was really pissed when we rooted him out!” Demo laughed.

“Yea,” Scout chuckled half-heartedly. He honestly enjoyed ruining a Spy’s day, but it was not enough to distract him from that weird feeling in his gut.

Suddenly, Scout noticed Sniper eyeing him. He was watching him with a wary expression on his face. He gave the Australian a nod, which the man took for an invitation.

Scout turned back to his bottle, as the Sniper took a seat next to him. He was not sure what was going on with the Aussie. He was not a social person, so he normally would not have sat next to him.

“Somethin’ eating you kid?” he asked.

He shook his head, refusing to speak. He just wanted to brew in his bitterness. He did not want the Sniper to try and cheer him up.

“Not gonna lash out for it, are ya?” the Aussie pressed, patting the younger man’s shoulder.

Scout shook his head, “I just think it was a cheap trick they pulled. It was cheating, that is what it was. They cheated the system and they cheated us without even asking if it would be okay.”

“Cheating?” the Sniper raised an eyebrow at him.

“Yea they were cheating! That was a cheap trick they pulled!” he exclaimed, “And they shouldn’t expect it to work again, not after BLU and Administration find out!”

“Are you going to tell Administration?” Sniper asked. There was no accusation on his voice, but Scout felt like he was being put on trial.

“No! I’m just saying, BLU isn’t completely incompetent…besides, the Administration sees all, right?” Scout put up his hands to fend off the taller man.

“This is a war, boy,” the Soldier growled from across the table, “All bets are off in war. Take it from a Viet Vet.”

Sniper nodded, seemingly unfazed by the Soldier’s moment of clarity. He did not even take a moment to soak in the fact that the Soldier was not acting completely insane or stupid for the moment. He just nodded and turned back to the Scout.

“We need to win our missions, Scout,” Sniper said, “I never would have thought the Administration would permit such a thing, but if the Administration isn’t going to look at it, then we should accept our wins however they come.”

“Yea, I know,” Scout sighed, feeling guilty about his feelings. They had won, he should not be bitter about some technicalities.

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you talk to those involved,” Sniper offered, “Otherwise, for the good of the team, you should keep your mouth closed when it comes to the Administration.”

“Yea, I hear ya,” Scout mumbled, before taking a long swig of his drink.

“Alright then,” Sniper rose from the table and made his way out of the room. He did not want to be there much longer, having come to the extent of his enjoyment of human company.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“What do you call that?” Spy asked the company in his smoking room. Normally he would not invite anybody in, but he had a few questions for this new Spy.

She was a curious woman, beyond being the first female Russian Spy he had ever met. She wore no mask and portrayed her feelings so openly she might as well be advertising who she was and how to manipulate her. She was all over every person she socialized with, no less.

Her strange style of socializing was not limited to the men on base. She flirted with the women she knew as well. He had noted that first with the young Scout, who was immediately embarrassed by the flirting. After that, he picked right up on all of the hints. The way she walked and the way she talked was a flirt towards every person around her.

Even the apathetic little Medic was flirted with, the Russian attempting to bring some blush to the woman’s face. Yet, it seemed that the Medic was completely unfazed, unmovable by the woman’s feminine whiles. She even attempted flirting with Spy himself for a while.

“We call that planning ahead,” she chuckled, amused at his amazement with their elaborate planning.

She had explained a few brief and basic plans that they already had laid out with the team. Each plan had been arranged to use the benefits and weaknesses of various teammates, most often the Scout. The Scout was the fastest and made the best distraction for whatever else they needed to do. And according to this Spy, never did the BLUs catch onto their plans.

He doubted that a little. At some point their plans would start repeating and cycling. When that started happening, somebody on BLU team would catch on and start planning out counter-plans and counterattacks.

“You didn’t exactly make the plan clear to all of your teammates,” he said, with a touch of firm scorn in his tone.

“You’re right,” she had a strangely authentic tone of admission, submitting her apology whole-heartedly, “I should have given you the details prior to mission start. That is on me. I will accept that blame.”

He hesitated, mulling over her words. She did not even hesitate to give the apology and accept the blame openly. Perhaps it was because they were alone and secluded. She might well want him to start to trust her. He could already read the blunt facts of the woman’s ploy.

“And you’ll reap the pains of your mistakes when you mess up,” he stated, tapping some ash off the end of his cigarette into a tray.

She scoffed, “You underestimate me.”

He sniffed with indignation. He looked down his nose at her, despite being at about the same height. He held himself above her, in a sense. She was a fool to think that this behavior was remotely Spy-like. She wore her identity and her feelings in the open.

He pushed down the thoughts, reminding himself of what Pauling had said. This team was here to improve their team. That had to mean something, even if he did not like it. There was a chance that this Spy was not as superior as the rest of her teammates, but he could not chance anything.

If Mann Co wanted his team to improve then he would go along with it. He would do his best to improve his own efforts, if only for the team. He had to keep them in the job, if he was to keep them all alive.

“I think not,” he protested, placing the cigarette between his lips again, “But, if we are going to be working together, we need a better understanding of our teams.”

“Very well, what do you want to know?” she asked, tapping her own cigarette out into another tray.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The countdown filled the respawn room as the mercenaries lined up. Most of the resident mercenaries kept to themselves today, not even associating with each other, except for the Medic and the Heavy.

The other team was gathered to hear the Medic, who was instructing the team thoroughly. They already had a new plan laid out to keep the other team from assuming what they would be doing. They would not repeat anything from the day before, refreshing their tactics to keep the enemy on their toes.

“What about the mission?” Nonna interrupted the Medic.

“I want you to stay near base for defense,” the Medic replied, pausing to shift their glasses up their nose.

They thought about the papers Nonna had brought in through respawn. They had studied them with the Engineers and the other Medic. It was a peculiar set of plans that was almost as nonsensical as any other set of plans and intelligence they ever collected. The most they made out of it was the base’s layout and plans for prototypes the BLU Engineer had been working on.

The intelligence had been sent off to the Administration already. There was no point in keeping whatever else was there. It was all useless rubbish to the mercenaries anyways.

Once the group disassembled, their counterparts lined up with them. They stood in relative silence, listening as the Administrator counted down to the opening of the gate. Each mercenary held their first weapons at the ready, prepping to kill the first BLU mercenary they saw.

The gates let open and they flung themselves forward. The Scouts were the first to charge out, making their way towards the first points of battle. They were closely followed by the Scottish Demoman, the Spies, the soldiers and the resident Pyro. After them came the other Demo, the Engineers and the Snipers. The other Pyro stuck close to the Engineers, following them to where they were going to set up their equipment.

The two Heavys charged out in the back, each respectively pocketed by a Medic. The two Heavys seemed in sync, aware of each other and thus moving together as they started to mow down any man dressed in BLU uniform. The Medics on the other hand were almost in opposition, and it was bothersome.

The two Medic’s weaved around their respective Heavy, trying to keep cover behind their gigantic body shield. Scouts, Demos and Soldiers came bolting back once in a while, crying for help. Each time, one of the Medics broke away to heal the teammate, but every once in a while both of the red healing beams went to the injured colleague. It was not working out right, as the teammate usually did not require as much healing as the Heavys needed cover.

The Medic realized the error when both of them reacted to the American Scout, turning their beams to him. The moment left both Heavys open. Nyaga took many shots to the body, all of them coming too fast for her to stay alive for long, with no healing beam trained on her. Immediately after, the giant Russian man fell to a bullet through his head.

“Fall back, Fraulein!” the German Medic bolted, taking cover in one of the burn scarred buildings.

“What does that even mean?” the other Medic called out as they followed him.

“Don’t follow me!” he rounded on them quickly.

The Medic froze, suddenly hit with the realization of how tall their colleague was. For a moment, the feeling of being around a colleague melted, quickly replaced by the cold fear ushered in by that horrifying face. The burning in his eyes bore right into their skull, sending tingling shudders of fear through their whole body.

“Go another directly, you insolent woman! Find yourself a Soldier or Demo to pocket!” he roared in their face, bending slightly to come closer to them.

The fear was overwhelming and the memories came right up to the surface of their mind. That was not the face of an ally, it was that of many foes they had faced before. It was another German voice, from another angered face, with fierce eyes that would stab until the uber saw stabbed their ribs. They barely realized that they had yanked the uber saw from its place at their belt.

The man’s eyebrow raised, his glare intensifying ever so slightly. His hand grabbed the syringe gun, but did not yet raise it. He held the gaze with them, glowering with what seemed like a deep seeded hatred for them.

They opened their mouth to speak, the uber saw lowering to their side, but the man let out a cry of pain. He jolted and then fell forward, right against his shorter colleague. They quickly reached for their medigun to heal him, their eyes falling upon the balisong in his back.

“My apologies,” a Frenchman’s voice taunted, as he shimmered into sight.

The Medic did not stop as they brought up the medigun, but there was no time for them to react when he aimed a revolver at their head. The pain seared their head and they dropped to the ground. The weight of the German Medic fell on top of them, weighing upon them as they sank into the icy cold grip of death.

After what seemed like a couple of long excruciating moments, the Medic opened their eyes. They blinked away the white light they saw in their vision. When they were finally able to see clearly, they turned to the lockers to stuff supplies into their pockets.

“What was that?” the German accent took them by surprise.

They had forgotten that the man died around the same time that they had. They turned around to face him, taking in his appearance in one sweeping glance. He was not angry and tense anymore. He seemed to have relaxed after the death, which was surprising, considering the excruciating experience. Even the angered expression had changed to confusion.

“Doctor?” the big Russian man tried to catch his attention.

The German held up his hand to silence the Heavy, refusing to answer to him now, “What was that about back there?”

“What was what?” they responded defensively.

“Ahem,” Nyaga cleared her throat, glancing between the Medics and the other Heavy.

“We are needed on the battlefield,” the big Russian man spoke up for her.

“Back there! You froze up!” the man announced, all too loudly.

“I was surprised by a Spy,” they argued, cold sweat filling their palms.

“You drew your uber saw on me!” he raised his voice higher.

“Doctor!” the Russian man clapped a hand on the German’s shoulder, “We need to be going!”

“In a moment,” the German responded.

Suddenly, the earpiece crackled with noise, before Nonna’s voice came through the radio waves, “Spy has captured the intelligence! I require a Medic and backup! We need some defense please!”

“I got you, Nonna!” Adaliz’s voice responded quickly.

“Right behind Adaliz,” Lucy responded.

“Spy taken intelligence,” Nyaga spoke up, immediately backing down with embarrassment for her broken English.

“Lucy stay on the front,” the Medic clicked the remote, “Nonna I’ll be there shortly. Sofia, give me the four one one.”

“It’s not good, doc,” Sofia responded, “Jules needs a Medic, and I’m being cornered by Demo.”

“Shit,” the Medic hissed, turning to Nyaga, “Time for defense.”

Nyaga nodded, glancing momentarily at the other Heavy. The thick man turned to the other Medic, who was angry again. He shook his shoulder, with a hearty chuckle.

“Doctor, we will go together. Let’s defend RED intelligence,” the Russian Heavy offered, “Mission is important, intelligence is important, and team needs us.”

The German Medic sighed heavily, “Fine. We’ll deal with this later.” He paused to fix his tie before he followed the Heavy from respawn.

Nyaga clapped a hand on their shoulder, mimicking the Russian Heavy, “Let’s go together.”

The Medic nodded silently, allowing Nyaga to lead them out into the bright desert sunlight. They followed her towards the base, heading into the shade.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Doctor does not trust little doctor?” the Russian man marching next to Medic asked. He had a genuine sense of concern.

“What happened back there wasn’t normal,” he replied, with a shake of his head. He pulled out his syringe gun, checking to make sure it was loaded and ready to shoot a Spy.

“What happened?” the Heavy pressed.

“I’m not sure, Demyan,” the name rolled off his tongue without him thinking about it. He did not bite it back though, they were close enough to be on a first name basis anyways.

“This is new place for little Medic,” Demyan offered, with a flourish of his large hand, “Little doctor not used to being around other Medic. Little doctor is used to other women.”

“But, she needs to get used to it,” the Medic stated, glancing around a corner, checking for any signs of an enemy, “This is war not a party house.”

His sensitive ears caught the sound of footsteps. He motioned for the Heavy to wait, as he listened to the steps drawing nearer. He had not seen anybody around the corner, but that was where the steps were coming from. They slowed down, moving at a creeping tip toe as the Spy attempted to be sneaky.

The Medic sighed, waiting ever so patiently, until heavy footsteps came around the corner. Both men turned to see the tall African woman and the medical counterpart running towards them. The African woman was doing more of a jog, but the much shorter medical professional had to stretch her stride and run to keep up with that amazing gait.

The Medic hissed at them as he pushed off of the wall. He lifted his syringe gun, but there was nothing he could see to aim at. He grit his teeth, searching for signs, for sources of sound and movement.

“Spy!” Demyan spat.

“On it!” the smaller Medic cried out.

“Noooo!” Medic cried out, watching the woman fling her arm out. A fine green cloud of powder flung out before her hand, filling the air with dust.

He watched as some of this dust came upon a figure. The figure had stopped moving, his head tilted downwards as he watched the green touch his suit. He seemed to be momentarily perplexed about the powder, as if perhaps it might contain some toxin that would kill him if it touched his skin.

The Medic gave him no time to recover, as he let off two syringe shots, which brought the Spy into full view as he screamed in pain. The Heavy responded by lifting his minigun and letting off a barrage of bullets that threw the Spy back against the wall. He fell to the floor, pooling with blood, leaving the RED briefcase in his loose grip.

“Nice job!” he heard his female counterpart quip. He glared at her from the corner of his eye, but said nothing. He wanted to round on her out of anger and frustration, to shout at her for being such a dunce before, but the point was actually lost.

“Is good,” the Russian Heavy agreed, watching as the African woman took the briefcase, “We save intel from BLU team.”

“Good, now let’s get to work,” the smaller Medic spun on her heel, heading down the hallway, “Nyaga, remain for defense.”

“Yes doctor,” the woman responded, heading the other way to return the intel to its rightful place.

He exchanged a look with Demyan before chasing after the other Medic. She was charging out the door, chasing after the injured Scotsman. She did not even look to see if the others had followed her out.

He watched her out of the corner of his eye, while he pocketed Demyan. He tried to keep his focus on the battle at hand, healing passersby. But, he kept tabs on the shorter Medic and how easily she slipped back into the fight. It was like the confrontation never happened, like she was a mercenary through and through. He was not completely convinced though.

He swung around to Demyan’s left to heal the wounded Soldier. The man saluted dutifully as the bone in his shin solidified and returned to its natural state. “Thanks doc!” he turned on his heel and charged off into the fray again.

He did a double take when he heard the voice. It was not the American voice he was used to, that was the other Soldier, the man with the British accent. It made a little more sense that the man thanked him, as the American did not usually think of thanking any of his coworkers on the battlefield. In the infirmary, maybe he would thank the doctor for resetting his nose or bandaging up some finale battle wounds.

The Soldier flung himself into the air from a blast of his rocket launcher. He sent three rockets at the enemy Pyro, turning in midair like an acrobat. He had a little more grace than his American counterpart who looked perhaps more rigid when he did this.

He turned his attention back to Demyan, just as he noticed a small woman stumbling out a door. She was limping, one hand on her thigh to try and stop the bleeding. She cried out for the Medic, but the woman she was looking for was nowhere in sight.

The Medic quickly made his way towards her, quick to aid the fellow RED. Her head whipped up, eyes gazing up from under the hijab that hid her hair. She flinched, quickly stumbling backwards at the sight of the Medic.

“Let me heal you!” he called out over the roar of bullets from Demyan’s gun.

She hesitated, her eyes glancing around wildly. No doubt she was looking for the other Medic for assistance. When she saw no sign of the woman, she turned her gaze to the Medic and nodded.

“Thanks doc,” she spoke loudly, as he healed the wound. He would have to remove the bullet from her leg in the infirmary later.

He turned back to Demyan, quickly healing up the bullets he took to his body. He felt his medigun start to rev and hum, preparing with its charge. It brought a proud smile to his face.

“I’m nearly fully charged!” he announced.

“Da!” the Heavy called over the barrage of bullets, moving progressively between a set of buildings towards the BLU base.

He waited patiently for that charge. That familiar hum filled his hands with such excitement. The familiar thrill sent him to the edge, as he smiled gleefully at his comrade.

“I’m fully charged!” he bellowed out. Without wasting a moment more, he flipped the switch and the beam uber charged the Heavy.

The beautiful glow of red color surrounded the Heavy and brought a deep throated chuckle from the Medic. He could not help how gleeful he felt as the enemy fled from the uber charged giant. It was a thrilling rush that made his entire body shudder, delighted at the pure power that mowed down every enemy that came near them.

As they neared the BLU base, however, the light faded and they lost the uber. He lost his smile and his heart began to race. He ducked in behind the Heavy as he continued firing, not wanting to get caught by a Sniper. This would be about the time a Sniper would take his first shot.

“I am fully charged!” a woman’s voice caught his attention.

The other Medic came charging up, bringing the red glow back to the Heavy. But, as he looked on, he could not feel glee. The hum was not coming from his equipment. The stream did not come from the nozzle he was holding. He was not in any way a part of this wonderful uber, and he seethed in anger for that.

“Move! Move!” the smaller Medic was shouting at the Heavy, “Quickly! We need to push into the base!”

“Da!” was Demyan’s response, as he picked up his feet to charge faster, without losing what little aim he had of the enemy.

Having lost his coverage, the Medic darted out of the open, charging into the nearest building. He paused to pull out his syringe gun, prepared to take out any enemy BLUs he came across. He held it pointed down, but away from his feet, as he made his way up a set of stairs to get a better look at the battle ground.

He came to a window that looked like it was previously a Sniper nest. From the blue towelette on the floor, he was guessing that the blue Sniper was here before.

Out the window, as far as he could see, his teammates were dominating the BLUs. It was as if BLU had lost all control and their bold wits. He looked on as the other Medic pushed forward with his friend, the Russian man barely the wiser as he was swept up in his focus on beating the BLUs.

He did not even realize he had balled up his hand until he slammed it into the window sill. That should have been him pushing forward with Demyan. That was his team and his efforts.

True, he had lost the uber and could not fret on that anymore. Had the other Medic not jumped in with another uber, they would not have had this push. Still, he felt hot with anger at this feeling of betrayal.

“What a cheap trick,” he growled as he turned from the window.

He had turned just in time to see the BLU Spy appear before him. The Frenchman’s eyes widened, surprised at the sudden turn, his balisong raised to stab. Before he could bring it down, the Medic ducked out of the way.

“You and your clever little team don’t have much un us,” the Spy said, in his usual air of superiority. It was sort of like a taunt, just in a conversational manner.

The Medic hissed in anger, reaching for his uber saw, in hopes of taking out his frustration. He would love to see some blood at this point. And the feeling of bones and other internal parts falling apart beneath the power and strength of his arm and saw was what he needed to fix his negativity.

“Your team has gotten so poor that you’ve needed more teammates,” the Spy spoke, swiftly dodging the attacks. The slimmer man was a bit more agile, moving like a cat around the Medic.

“We don’t need those filthy frauleins!” he growled, as he thought of the women that had been brought into his base, “They’re hear to train with us and improve their skills!”

The Frenchman paused, his eye brows raising. He immediately broke into laughter, “The only reason you idiots can manage anything this week is because of them! You have an unfair advantage of eighteen mercenaries! And at the end of the day, the resident nine are still the inferior lot!”

He charged as the Spy went on laughing. He felt his uber saw taste blood, sinking deep into his intestines. He scraped down to the man’s pelvis as he screamed.

He panted as he stood over the man’s body. The feeling was good, but the rage was not gone. The taunting had left him very frustrated. It was only building up and he could not help but feel hate for the women of his team.

“Mon dieu,” he heard a voice behind him. He was too late as the blade sank in between his shoulders. He had forgotten to check if the Spy was using a dead ringer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fräulein - Miss; Young lady (German)  
> frau - Mrs; woman (German)  
> mon dieu - my God (French)
> 
> If I had made any mistakes in translation, please correct me.


	8. Names are Identities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The resident Medic is quite irritated and it's a problem for resident Heavy, who is being operated on. They end up getting to know the new little Medic a bit better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have been waiting to do this part for a while. I did not want to cram everybody's introductions in too tightly. It's difficult to follow when somebody is like "this is this and that is that" rather than making it flow naturally, which is what I'm trying to do. So I'm sorry that up to this point, the Medics have been confusing. But now you get to know their names.

Demyan was sitting in the infirmary, having bits and pieces of shrapnel pulled out of his person. It was another day for him. This was fairly normal. What he found abnormal about the whole affair was the excruciating pain that came with the doctor’s less-than-gentle touch.

“Doctor is upset today?” he asked, with a hesitant and cautious tone.

The Medic hissed in response, as he wiped his tools clean before returning to the opening in Demyan’s chest. He was intently focused on his work with his hands and his eyes, but the Heavy Weapons Expert was aware that the man’s mind was distracted. His creased eyes and furrowed brow told the story of a man caught in a heated cycle of frustrating thoughts.

“Is doctor upset with Heavy?” he asked, tentatively.

The doctor stopped, blinking several times at his work. He turned his gaze up to Demyan, blinking again. He looked so confused by the statement, “I am not upset with you, Demyan.”

He hesitated, running a big hand over his face. That was only half of his worries gone from his mind. Now he needed to figure out what was upsetting his friend.

“What is upsetting you, Sven?” he asked, pressingly.

“Nothing!” the man insisted, quickly returning to his work.

Demyan let out a cry of pain, flinching away, “Doctor is obviously upset! You have hurt me more than bullet!”

The German man growled, as he waited for Demyan to settle down, “Let me do my work!”

“Doctor can work, when doctor is not angry,” Demyan wrapped his hands around the doctor’s smaller hands, preventing him from cutting anything more.

“Demyan, let me finish so I can seal up your wounds,” Sven growled, trying to press through his friend’s grip.

“No, talk first,” Demyan insisted.

“You’re bleeding,” Sven glared over his circle rimmed glasses, “Don’t make me strap you to a gurney.”

He simply grunted in response to that threat. He was not unfamiliar with these kinds of threats from the doctor. The Medic was known to be a sadist who enjoyed his work a little too thoroughly. Though he did have a particular softness when he worked with Demyan, forged through their decades old bond. With Demyan he was soft, like a kitten, and kind like a puppy. Sometimes Demyan even thought that the Medic was cringing inwardly when he saw Demyan hurt.

It made sense to trust this man with his life. He spent all of forty-nine years protecting the health and well-being of his coworkers, knowing all too well the effects of another run through the respawn. And if Demyan could glean nothing else from the English he understood out of his colleagues’ mouths, the Medic was ever patient and calm with Demyan and Demyan alone.

“Tell me what is making you upset,” Demyan pressed, “Then you may have hands.”

Sven furrowed his brow, glaring over the rims of his glasses. He took a breath, knowing that Demyan would never let up, even if he passed out bleeding, until he got what he wanted. Their long standing friendship had enough experiences of this, so that the Medic did not need to test just how long the large man would put up with the painful openings in his body, the consistent bleeding, and the slow trod towards unconsciousness.

The Medic switched to Russian, speaking roughly with poor use of tones and words. But he had so much confidence as he spoke, never caring if he mispronounced a word or misunderstood its usage, so long as Demyan was his audience. Demyan was the only person he spoke Russian with, after all. He started learning after he befriended the Heavy Weapons Expert, wanting to close a gap in what was otherwise a miscommunication of language.

Much to Demyan’s surprise, the Medic was much more efficient at learning the language, even without others to speak to, than he himself was at learning English. And here he was, in New Mexico, United States, around lots of English speakers. He should be a better speaker by this point.

“It is the Medic,” the man admitted in a soft tone.

“Oh?” he pressed, hoping Sven would rant it out.

“I cannot figure her out!” he exclaimed, “There is something seriously wrong with that woman! One moment she is all put together, all business, the next she falls apart and her mind snaps! Then she’s off into the fray of mercenary madness again! It’s maddening to watch!”

“It’s only been two days,” Demyan shook his head.

“I know, but I have seen her already,” Sven explained, “And while she does conduct the respect and obedience of her colleagues well, there is something that bothers me.”

“What is that?” Demyan asked, patiently.

Sven chewed on his lower lip, “Remember that trick their Spy pulled? Sewing the intelligence into her clothing?”

“Yes, I remember,” Demyan nodded.

“It was a cheat that would not have been allowed,” he explained, “If the Administration even knew. You remember when Scout tried to take papers with him in his jacket pocket. He had explained, in painstaking detail, how he had discovered that loose items in his jacket would come through the respawn.”

“I remember that,” Demyan nodded again, waiting for his friend to continue. The pain in his chest was starting to bother him though, so he released the Medic’s hand, setting his arms by his sides.

Sven resumed his work as he spoke, “After that win, Administration made it impossible for paper to come through the respawn. So the boy’s can of bonk can come with him, but he will not get that intel like that again.”

“But they got it anyways,” Demyan argued.

“Yes I know,” Sven paused to sew up one of the openings, “And it worries me. The Administration has dished out punishments before, even ones we weren’t aware of. And if this comes back to bite us, I am afraid of what kind of punishments might come our way.”

“It will be fine,” Demyan insisted, touching the Medic’s forearm to comfort him.

The doctor paused to give Demyan a smile, before he resumed his work. He picked up a wet rag from a clean bowl and used it to clean up some of Demyan’s wounds. Already, red was starting to spread from Sven’s deft hands to his shirt sleeves, waistcoat and trousers.

“Little Medic’s team has creative ways,” Demyan explained, “They use different tactics than you are used to.”

“Their tactics can lose us matches,” Sven grumbled, “Like it did today.”

“Today’s loss was not because of little doctor,” Demyan argued, sternly, “Little doctor provided push to bring us close to mission.”

“If our mission was to simply cause our enemies to die as many times as we can, then we would have won,” Sven growled, “But, it was not. Instead we lost our intelligence to the BLU Scout.”

“It was poor defense planning,” Demyan shrugged, “Nyaga was alone with intelligence.”

“Nyaga?” Sven quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Other Heavy,” he replied, “She is quiet and strong. But she is shy and not confident alone.”

Sven did a double take, leaning back away from Demyan. He was blinking at him with confusion in his eyes. “The…the other Heavy?”

Demyan nodded slowly, “The other woman. Remember her?”

Sven’s brow furrowed, “I don’t know which one you’re talking about.”

Demyan sighed, “You should come to the rec room. You should meet team. They are good people.”

“I’m sure they are,” Sven nodded slowly, “But I barely enjoy the company of our own team.” He paused, carefully cutting under Demyan’s rib, causing him to grunt with pain. “You aside, of course.”

“That’s a shame, I thought we were close,” a French accent cut through the air, with a tone of sarcasm.

Sven sighed with irritation and shook his head. Demyan looked around, but did not find any sign of the Spy. He was forced to remain where he was, waiting for the Spy to reveal himself to the Medic and Heavy.

“Your presence is noted, now please see yourself out the door,” Sven responded, keeping his hands and eyes preoccupied with Demyan’s bullet wounds.

Demyan’s eyes were still searching when the Spy appeared in midstride. He walked right over to where the doctor was working, a smoking cigarette in his mouth. He pulled the cigarette away before he spoke, holding it away from the patient and doctor.

“I have need of your opinion, doctor,” the Spy stated, trying to get Sven’s attention. He ignored Demyan’s presence altogether, as if he did not exist, or did not even understand English.

“Later, bitte,” Sven responded, still not physically acknowledging the Spy.

“This is a pressing matter that requi-” the Spy cut off suddenly, turning his head.

Demyan lifted his eyes to see the doors swing open and the little doctor enter. She paused to adjust her glasses as she took in the scene before her. She said nothing as she resumed towards the single desk and filing cabinet.

“We’ll discuss this later,” the Spy vanished, leaving only the swinging doors as a clue that he left.

Demyan turned his attention to Sven, who was studying the other Medic out of the corner of his eye. His face had tensed, with what Demyan could only guess was anger or irritation. His hands had paused, one holding a scalpel over the wound he had been digging into, and the other holding tweezers to dig out the shrapnel.

“Is there something you need?” Sven called towards the little Medic.

She paused, lifting her head, “I’m just looking for my file on Shelly, the Engineer.”

“Your files were placed in the cabinet with the others,” he responded, his eyes steady on her, as steady as the hands over Demyan’s injury.

“Thank you,” she strode around the desk to the cabinet and started fingering through them to find what she was looking for.

Demyan cleared his throat to catch his friend’s attention. When Sven returned to his work, he gave Demyan a look. He was not sure what that look was supposed to mean though. He seemed angry, maybe even upset still, but Demyan did not understand why.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The Medic breathed a sigh of relief as they stepped out of the infirmary. They had not even been aware that they were holding their breath in the first place. It was that look on the German man’s face, a dark expression that made fire bloom in his blue eyes. They could not be sure if it was just irritation, frustration, exhaustion or perhaps even hatred.

They shuddered at that thought. They had to work with this man and improve his skills. Already they were at a loss of how to do so.

When dear little Pauling gave them this assignment, the Medic had been the first to sink into fear. The others were already aware of what their counterparts would be like, and already had ideas of how to improve them. But as for the Medic…

The German Medics tended to be hot tempered, quick to anger, and hold grudges. They would punish their teammates for wronging them by refusing healing and assistance, even if it cost them the match. Their team could end up forfeiting a whole match, maybe even a whole week’s worth of matches, over the insane anger that these Medics tended to have.

That was the only problem they could foresee themselves needing to fix. But how to do that was beyond them. And to want to do that…

“Heya doc!” the male Scout appeared in front of them.

They flinched, almost losing their grip on the file, “Jersey! What…what are you doing here?”

He gave her a look of uncertainty, “Just been waiting for the doc to get finished so he can wrap up my fractured elbow. Think you could help me with that, since you’re a Medic and all?”

“W-well sure,” they turned, motioning to the double doors, “Of course.”

The boy led the way inside, with big dramatic movements. He had this obnoxious air about him that bespoke both a desire for attention and a blissful innocence to others’ discomfort. It was a little grating, but the Medic had long since gotten used to American customs.

They had him sit on a chair beside the desk while they pulled out supplies. They moved quickly, using the most efficient methods they knew to gather what they needed. When they returned to the desk, they found the Scout was starting to poke at Shelly’s file.

They slapped a hand on the manila folder, “That’s confidential information.”

The Scout threw his hands up in defense, “Oh yea! Sure! Of course! Sorry! I didn’t mean…I just got curious about what that is.”

“Patient files are not for other patients to read through,” they scorned, as they took his elbow.

He hissed and grit his teeth, struggling not to make noises of pain. He decided to strike up a conversation to distract himself, “So, why is it you call me Jersey?”

They did not pause in their work as they spoke, “You’re from New Jersey right? I can tell from the accent.”

The boy chuckled, “No, I’m from Boston.”

“Boston?” they paused their work, taking a moment to ponder the answer, “Is that in New Jersey?”

He laughed, though through gritted teeth, “That’s in Massachusetts. It’s a pretty famous place, don’t you know it?”

“I’ve never been,” was their response, as they resumed wrapping the boy’s arm.

“You know, if you just want a name to tell me apart from the other Scout, call me Tanner,” he said, with a crooked smile.

“Alright Boston, I’ll call you Tanner,” they added a bit of a teasing tone to those words.

He laughed, and called over to the other Medic, “Say doc! How come none of us know your name?”

The man grumbled something incoherent, maybe even German. He kept his focus on the Heavy Weapons Expert. The Russian man had a curious look on his face though, like he was listening and wanted to be included.

“If it makes little Scout feel better, you can call Heavy Demyan,” the big man said.

“Stop moving dummkopf!” the other Medic growled, with irritation.

“Hey, names make more sense, you know?” Tanner went on, without missing a beat, “Since we got two Medics, two Heavys, two Scouts…and two of everybody else…we kinda need to tell each other apart, right?”

“Da, is good idea,” the Russian man responded. That brought a hiss of frustration from the man working on him.

“I mean, other than the fact that one is a man and one is a woman,” Tanner added.

The Medic paused their work on the boy’s arm, feeling a bit inclined to feel frustrated. They took a moment to take a calming breath before resuming, not wanting to get angry lest they hurt the ignorant boy. They could already tell that this was going to be a frustrating situation, but they were not sure how aware these men were of more recent cultural movements that the Medic and their team of mostly women had been a part of.

“I respectfully decline your assessment of my gender, Scout,” they said, in a calm voice.

“Oh…eh…what?” the boy gave them a confused look.

“I do not identify as female,” they explained, “Nor male. I respectfully ask that you do not reduce my identity as a human being to being a part of the society construct of women verses men. It does not fit the construct of any of the women I work with either.”

“Oh…um…I’m sorry,” he shrugged, with an innocent look of red on his face, “I didn’t know.”

“Yes, that’s why I’m telling you now,” they explained.

“So then…if you’re not a gal…then you’re a guy?” he asked.

“No,” they responded simply, wrapping up the last of his arm, keeping it set in place for the medigun to heal it properly. It was a bit of an overuse of supplies, but the Medic had gotten carried away with the distracting conversation.

“So you’re not a guy…but you’re not a girl…” Tanner put a finger to his chin, as if he was concentrating hard, “Ummm…”

That was when they noted the chuckling coming from the table where the Heavy was being operated on. The man nearly slapped his wounded patient as he shook with laughter. He found this to be utterly hilarious. His patient found it painful, as he started groaning.

“Sorry, Demyan,” the man turned back to his work.

There was a moment when the Medic had taken up their small medigun and opened their mouth to speak. But they cut it off, thinking better of the situation. They turned on the machine, aiming it at the Scout’s arm. They needed to- had to work with the Medic, but it was the Scout who was friendly enough to accept such a friendly exchange. They would not bother the Medic about pronouns or technicalities. He looked much older than Tanner, and thus probably had most of his life views already set in his mind.

“So, what can I call you by, doc?” the Scout turned his attention to the doctor tending to his arm, sheepishly. He paused to admire his arm as the pain swept away.

The Medic set the medigun aside and began pulling away the wrappings. They had done a tidy job, making the removal a bit difficult. They probably should not have done it up so tightly.

“Usually I would insist on my class title,” they said, as they gently removed the last of the wrappings. They stopped to watch the boy admire his fully functional muscles with a cockiest smile on his face. “But since there are two to call such, you may call me Dr. Ash.”

Tanner’s head jolted up and he gave them a smile. He raised his now-healed arm up to tip his cap like he was some sort of gentleman. They had never expected the Scout of all people to be the friendliest and most pleasant person to be around. Perhaps they would enjoy his company, in spite of his obnoxious and loud behavior.

They heard the other Medic growling and hissing as he went about his work. He was growing more frustrated, but he was keeping it to himself, or at least between himself and his patient. Their first assumption was that he was unused to or did not like working in a shared space, despite how much space was in the office/clinic/operating theater.

“Doctor, be more considerate,” the Russian man pleaded, “There is no point in anger, when we have to work together. And in this, we work together, da?”

There was a long silence between the two. Ash tried to turn their attention away, as they tossed the used supplies away and grabbed Shelly’s file. Ash had another patient to attend to, but they would be helping them in the work space the woman shared with the other Engineer.

They were following the boy out the door when a loud clearing of the throat called their attention back. They turned halfway to see the man standing erect, with one hand behind his back and the other raised to his mouth. He slowly lowered the hand, bringing it around to place with his other hand behind his back.

“Ash is it then?” he asked.

They felt a pang of regret. They forced themselves not to wince or moan with despair at the thought. They had given their name specifically to the Scout, fully aware that the other men in the room could hear it clearly. Even most of their own team did not know their name, they were not fond of giving that power to the taller Medic.

“You may call me Sven,” he gestured to his chest, with a beautiful flourish.

Ash flinched in surprise. They had not expected the man to clean up his grumbling, irritated mood in order to present himself in a civil manner for introduction. They had to take a moment to collect their thoughts.

“Pleasure,” they offered their hand, and it was practically devoured by the larger hand that shook it. That thought was terrifying, as they remembered a hand like this clamping onto their face, while the other cut at their neck with a bone saw.

“I would ask that you please do not share this name,” he said, sternly.

Ash nodded slowly, realizing the brevity of the mutually shared power in this exchange. He had their name, and now they had his. Neither of them wanted that to be open knowledge.

“Aside from the Heavy Weapons Expert, you are the only one who knows my name,” he hesitated, as if he doubted himself for a moment.

“Aside from you and the little Scout…” Ash paused to think. Pyro knew them by their full name already. Shelly knew their full first name, though not their full name. And because of a brief slip up from the Irishwoman, Nyaga and Sofia both knew that the name Ash. “Perhaps four of my members know my name,” they explained, “As incidental as that is.”

Suddenly they caught themselves up in thought, realizing why the Medic had doubted himself before. Neither of them had calculated the Spies into the equation. The sneaky class was known for finding out bits of information, but it was just as likely that the Medic did not know how much his Spy knew as Ash did not know how much their Spy knew.

“Though I do not like working with you like this, I do acknowledge that we must be mutually civil about this arrangement,” Sven explained.

Ash nodded in agreement, “Neither of us is used to sharing such a work space. Neither of us wants to share a work space, or a team. And…your Heavy is dead.” They leaned sideways as they noted the man’s sudden halt in breathing. It was jarring as the large man’s chest moved dramatically and his breathing had become so labored that most average people could have noticed.

“Oh mein Gott!” Sven growled, storming back towards the operating table.

“Saves time,” Ash offered with a shrug.

Sven glared at them heatedly, his hands placed against the operating table, “I would rather my dear friend did not have to go through that.”

Ash flinched when the response hit them, “I-I’m sorry. That was insensitive of me.”

“Yes it was,” he motioned for them to leave, “Now if you have something else to do, I need to clean this up.”

Ash nodded, and hurried out the double doors, not wanting to further upset the Medic. They had seen enough of his temper as it was. And now that they were breathing steadily again, they could think more clearly about this situation. In the end, they needed to stop being so easily frightened by a tall man in a lab coat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dummkopf - idiot; bigot (German)  
> Da - Yes (Russian amongst other languages)
> 
> So I hope that this chapter has made things a bit more clear with the Medic then.
> 
> Meet the Medics:  
> Resident Medic  
> Name: Sven  
> Origin: Germany  
> Gender: Male  
> Age by Appearance: 51
> 
> New Medic  
> Name: Ashlynn  
> Origin: (American) Japan  
> Gender: Agender  
> Age by Appearance: 43


	9. Please Fix Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dr. Ash is hassled by their old friend Pyro, who as always has a strange idea of how medical practice works, to save a downed bird. Ironically the poor symbol of America was downed by the American Soldier in his plight to salute the animal in midair.  
> Yukina does not see anything amusing about all of this. She wants to save the poor bird and is only infuriated by the words that people use when they refuse to continue helping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aha! So I remembered I was doing this thing. But I got caught up in working on my research thesis. This one's less action though...

“You seem rather flustered,” Shelly noted, a bit too loudly for Ash’s taste. They gave her a look, in hopes of showing her their distaste in how loud she was being, as if announcing this to the world.

Here in the workshop, Shelly felt most comfortable, even with the company of two new teammates. The male Engineer was fiddling with some device, but he was not deaf to what was going on not five feet away from himself. The Pyro was a bit different though, completely and utterly distracted by a cat who slipped away from them only to return to their lure.

Ash ducked their head and refocused their efforts on Shelly’s leg. The woman had complained of pains in the nub below her knee, and after finding it infected, Ash could see why. It did not help that Shelly had yet to die once since they arrived, as these things were often fixed by a trip through the respawn. However, nobody wanted Shelly to end up going through respawn if she did not have to, especially Shelly.

“No reason to be quiet, doc,” Shelly stated through gritted teeth.

Cleaning her leg was a painful affair, but the doctor was scraping away infected tissue without much more in the way of anesthetics. She just took what appeared to be Vicodin, and got a warning not to operate heavy machinery. That was a silly thing to do to an Engineer, whose entire job was to handle and work with heavy equipment, but it was still better than putting her under. In the end, she would likely use the drug’s side effects as excuse for being a loud mouth.

“Doc?” Shelly pressed.

“I am working Shelly,” Ash replied, momentarily shooting her a harsh glare.

The woman was unaffected, “And I’m stuck here with nothin’ to do but grit my teeth.”

“I don’t mean to push you out or nothing,” the male Engineer spoke up, “I’m just a mite curious. How come you’re doing that in this dirty workshop and not in the sanitary infirmary?”

Ash blushed, feeling heat rise to their cheeks. Both Engineers kept pushing them, but they did not want to talk about what was inevitably the same answer. They had escaped any harsh misgivings or temper tantrums with the other Medic, Sven. They had escaped and they did not want to go back, not until they had to.

“Eh, doc and I have been working together near the longest of anybody,” Shelly shrugged, “And I’m in a bit of a pickle with this pain to be waddlin’ all the way down to the infirmary.”

“I get that,” the man nodded in response. Ash detected a smile from the corner of their eye, and when they glanced up they saw Shelly smile in response.

“If not for the doc, I wouldn’ta been able to do my job,” Shelly went on, “Takes good care of me so I can keep on doing my job.”

“You are like a bumbling child,” Ash growled, as they dabbed a fresh wad of cotton in rubbing alcohol, “Always hurting your leg, the same leg, like a damn child.”

“I’m older than you,” Shelly chuckled.

“Don’t look a day over twenty five,” the other Engineer chuckled.

“Always the charmer, ain’t you Alan?” Shelly laughed delightedly, “Of course, you’re prolly from an era of gentlemen. You’d be used to ladies in lace, not so much the gruff and whiskey type like myself.”

“I find the whiskey refreshing and the gruff to be more delightful than lace,” Alan responded in kind.

Ash blushed, glancing between the two. They could not believe that these two were having a flirtatious conversation. They did not even seem to note the Medic’s presence there, just being playful and flirtatious with each other. The Pyro did not take notice of this, delighted entirely with his playful kitty.

“D’aww! You flatter me!” Shelly laughed.

Ash looked from one to the other again, “Are you serious?”

“What?” Shelly gave them a curious look.

Before Ash could reply, the door flung open and the other Pyro stepped in. Ash’s head whipped around to see the girl suited up, but holding an armful of things, overflowing ribbons, a couple pairs of scissors, partially crumpled papers, a box of matches, a couple of lighters, thin necklace chains, multicolored and stained paint brushes, a Spy’s Your Eternal Reward, a bottle of what appeared to be liquid cough medicine, turquoise rocks, and a summer bonnet from Dublin on top. She paused to look at the people in the room, as if surprised to see them all there.

“Yukina?” Ash acknowledged her presence there, a bit curious about the jumble of things in her arms.

The girl immediately dropped the things and pointed out the door. A stream of fumbling shouts came from inside the suit, but it was all muffled by the mask. There was no telling whether she was speaking English or Japanese, let alone what she was trying to tell them.

“Can’t hear you, Yuki,” Shelly said, shaking her head.

The Pyro paused to turn on the walkie talkie on her belt. It clicked and its light came on. When she was sure that it was working, she said, “Medic, come fix…bird…” Her words were hesitant and slow. Her English was not the best, and the presence of two unfamiliar people made her more hesitant.

The Medic shifted their position, rising from their knees into a crouch, “What did you do, Yukina?”

“Soldier break bird! Please…come fix!” the girl pleaded through the walkie talkie.

“How’s she doing that?” Alan asked, suddenly.

“She’s got an earpiece,” Shelly motioned to her own ear.

“I’m trying to fix Shelly’s leg right now,” Ash shook their head, “Get a shovel and bury the bird. I told you I can’t fix birds, Yukina.”

Yukina charged at them but stopped short. Ash was not unfamiliar with this form of temper tantrum, or at least the one that was coming their way. Her hands gripped at the air as she flailed her hands about.

She resumed in Japanese, “You are a doctor. You practiced medicine! You must come fix the bird! It was not my fault this time, I swear! Soldier broke the wing!”

Ash sighed in response but said nothing more. They would not dignify the girl’s desperation. This was going to turn into a temper tantrum one way or another, but in the end, Shelly was an important patient.

“She’s not going to stop,” Shelly said, reaching down to tap the Medic’s head, “You might as well go deal with that real quick. I’m not going anywhere soon.”

Ash glared up at Shelly for interfering. This was her patient to deal with, either way. Shelly knew very well that speaking up when the Medic avoided it was bad for Yukina. She knew how these things were with Yukina and her problems.

“Just go and see, then come back and finish,” Shelly insisted, “I need a break.”

Ash sighed with irritation and in one smooth motion rose to their feet and strode out the door. Yukina was quick to take the lead, heading towards the supposed broken bird. To Ash’s surprise, the animal was surrounded by three people. The American Soldier stood guard proudly, yelling at the boy named Tanner and the man named Demyan.

“What’s going on?” Ash interrupted their conversation.

“Oh good! An American doctor!” the Soldier announced loudly, grabbing Ash by the shoulder, “With American medicine! You are the perfect candidate to fix the pride and joy of America!” He pointed to the eagle laying on the ground.

Ash’s mouth dropped open with surprise and confusion. They had expected something very different than this. For dark reasons, they had expected more blood and perhaps a bit of gore.

“I brought ribbon…for to wrap its wing,” Yukina held out some assorted ribbons.

Ash glanced at her before kneeling at the bird, “Two things, I studied medicine in Japan, India and England, and I do not tend to animals. I’m a human doctor, I take care of humans.”

They rose to their feet to look around at the others. Demyan and the Soldier looked disappointed to hear this news. Somehow, Tanner looked like he was entertained by something.

“Something funny?” the asked the boy.

“The Pyro’s a girl too?!” he blurted.

Ash raised an eyebrow and then looked at Yukina. She ducked her head a little, her feet shuffling. She directed her gaze towards the injured bird on the ground, who was breathing heavily.

Ash shook their head, “At this point, the best solution I know would be to break its neck and give it mercy.”

“This is not acceptable!” the Soldier raised his voice, “I as a proud American defend my country’s bird! You would do well to do the same, you traitor!”

Ash rolled their eyes and pushed their glasses up with a finger. They glanced over at Yukina, feeling bad for wanting to scorn her. They had thought this was going to turn out to be her fault, and that she would expect them to simply be able to fix it. At least half of her expectations were not met this time.

“What did you even do to it?” Ash asked the Soldier.

“Moron rocket jumped right into the freaking bird! It was beautiful! Just the sight of this bird coming over, and the guy got all jumpy. So he rocket jumps up to salute it twice. And the idiot aims right at its wing!” Tanner broke down into laughter.

“You are a traitor to your country, son,” the Soldier growled.

Tanner still laughed, “At least I’m not the idiot that aimed for the freaking bird! How stupid you gotta be?”

“Little bird is not doing well,” Demyan cut in, turning the attention back to the Medic, “Can splint wing?”

Ash decided that the man probably spent a lot of time around Dr. Sven. Given his rough and slow use of English, there would be certain words he would be unaware of, or at least would not know the application of them. Yukina had been here in America with Ash for over twenty years, and she still did not know what a splint was.

“Maybe,” they glanced down at the animal. They were not particularly fond of avian animals, though they never really handled birds before.

“I will not accept failure!” the Soldier announced.

“Yea sure, let’s see you splint a bird’s wing,” Tanner chuckled.

Ash stood there with the bird at their feet and pondered. They were not entirely sure about a bird’s biology. A wing was not too difficult, as they could imagine the bone layout in their head. It was a fairly simple idea, to splint an injured wing, but they were not sure about whether it would hurt the bird or not. They were also not entirely sure that the wing was the only injury.

“Well?” Demyan pressed.

The thought of pretty off-white doves came to Ash’s mind. At first they were confused about why they thought of this, but then realized that it was because there were doves in the infirmary. Doves were probably not a wild animal, at least they were not natural to this desert land, so it was more likely that the flock of avian pets belonged to none other than Sven.

“Doctor’s doves, those are his pets?” Ash looked to Demyan.

He paused, taken by surprise, before he nodded, “I suppose Medic is better choice for taking care of little bird.”

Ash nodded in agreement before turning to Yukina, “Take the bird to the infirmary. Ask the other doctor to do it.”

They saw her cringe, shrinking inwardly. It was nothing obvious, especially with the suit covering every tiny bit of body language. But Ash knew very well that she was cringing at the idea of talking directly with the big German man, while it was likely that she would not even talk directly to the three men here. She would be forced to at ask at least one question, if not explain the situation, in order to get the man to fix the bird.

“Go on,” Ash motioned to the bird.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The infirmary was an uninviting place. Its bright lights lit up every nook and cranny of the room. Its distinct smells started to filter through the mask, giving the full feel of medicinal practice and sickness. That was the least inviting part about an infirmary, its medicine and sick smells.

When Yukina entered the room, she was greeted by the tall man with the flowing white coat. He was amazingly big, and all the more intimidating while Yukina was not holding her flame thrower. He was almost as scary as the loud American Soldier, or the big Russian Heavy, or even the mysterious French Spy.

Yukina thought that in better terms, she might have befriended the Spy. He hid his face from the world, as if suspicious of it. She could relate to that.

This doctor’s only relation to her was that he wore a white flowing coat like Dr. Ashlynn. Otherwise, he was a tall, frightful, overbearing man. The most frightening part was his face – no mask covered the human underneath, she was looking at the face of a demon’s smile.

“What can I do to help you?” she finally honed into his words.

English was so tedious, so when people were talking, she liked to tune them out. Still, she needed to answer with something. But, she found her walkie talkie was turned off, and her hands were full of an injured bird. So when she said, “Please…fix bird…” it was not surprising to see that the man was a little confused.

“I cannot hear you,” he stated.

She raised it a little higher, hoping he would notice the creature’s labored breathing. He looked at the limp animal with half-lidded eyes. He had a haughty look about him as he poked at the creature.

“Thank you, but I prefer living birds. This one is nearly dead,” he told her, dismissively.

That word. He said that word. It was almost like a forbidden word. Everybody said it enough times that she should have been used to it, but not in this circumstance. She would not accept their dismissal. She would not accept their term of death.

“Fix bird!” she shouted, trying to cut through the mask.

“I am still unable to hear you,” he stated, headed towards his desk. He held himself high, with a straight back and his hands placed behind his back.

Yukina looked down at the bird with a feeling of desperation growing. Dr. Ashlynn refused to fix the poor thing. This man was ignorant to what she was saying. She could not catch a break.

She realized that she was starting to hyperventilate, heaving and wheezing in her mask as if she had run a marathon. She thought back to other times this happened and remembered what Dr. Ashlynn would say. She followed her memory’s instructions, slowing her breathing and trying to calm down.

“Are you…” the man had wandered back towards her, gazing down at her mask with curiosity, “Are you hyperventilating?”

She took a few more deep breaths before she located a chair. She walked right towards it and set the bird down. She turned on her walkie talkie as she turned towards the Medic. She was scared though, so scared that she did not know what to say.

“Do you need medical attention?” he asked.

She took a deep breath, “Please fix bird.”

His eyebrows rose and his eyes went straight to the walkie talkie from which her voice came. He immediately looked confused, as he stared at the walkie talkie. Slowly, he seemed to finally process what she had said.

He looked her in the goggles, “I am not a veterinarian.”

“Please fix bird,” she repeated, “Please.”

He glanced over at the bird and then looked back to her, “You should talk to the other Medic. I am not a veterinarian. Ju-” He cut off as the double doors opened, admitting the sounds of people talking as well as the other Medic.

Dr. Ashlynn glanced over them before approaching them. The tall Medic was listening to the men’s voices as they came in the door. The male Scout, the American Soldier and the big Russian Heavy came in, chattering about something.

Dr. Ashlynn ignored them as they approached Yukina, “Did you ask?”

Yukina paused, switching to Japanese since it was the doctor, “Yes I did. He refuses to help.”

Dr. Ashlynn shrugged and responded in Japanese, “That’s how it is then.”

“Ask what?” the other Medic intervened.

Dr. Ashlynn turned to him, “She wanted the bird to be bandaged. But I do not know anything about…avian species.”

Yukina glanced down at her walkie talkie as she heard it click off. It automatically turned off at a certain point, so it would not run the battery dry. That was Shelly’s doing, given that Yukina often forgot about to turn it off and charge the battery.

“I told her to ask you, as you have more…interaction…with such animals,” Dr. Ashlynn explained, “I on the other hand do not know the first thing about birds.”

“Well I am not a vet,” the man replied.

“I will not accept this!” the American Soldier reached up and grabbed the man by his lab coat, giving him a solid shake, “I will not accept such failure!”

“What are you-?” the Medic was taken off guard by the violent shaking the Soldier gave him.

“Yo, Soldier, cool it!” the Scout cut in, trying to calm the older man down.

Yukina turned back to Dr. Ashlynn, ignoring the exchange that was going on between the men. She wanted desperately to save the bird. That was all she wanted, that was not so much to ask for, was it? Surely there was something the doctor could do, with their useful medical tools.

“Can’t you do something?” she pleaded in Japanese, grabbing a piece of Dr. Ashlynn’s coat.

“I can’t hear you, Yukina,” the Medic responded, brushing off her hand, “You need to either speak through the ear piece or take the mask off.”

Yukina sighed as she turned to her walkie talkie. It was a little irritating to have to worry about this. One would think that she would be used to making sure she used it, after so many years of being inside this suit when around other people, but she was just fed up with the whole system. It was tiresome to say the least.

“That’s what I thought,” Dr. Ashlynn noted that she went straight for the walkie talkie device.

Yukina scoffed through the device, “What about medigun?”

“That charge is not for birds,” Dr. Ashlyn responded, straightening their lab coat over the blue vest.

“I just want save bird,” she argued, carefully picking her words, since they were speaking English.

“I know you do,” Dr. Ashlynn placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “But you have to accept when somebody has been pushed too far. The bird is going to die.”

That word got under Yukina’s skin quickly. It caused her to bristle, heat running over her skin. She felt like her entire body had lit up in flames beneath the flame retardant suit. It made her angry and she felt the overwhelming urge to lash out and cause harm, especially towards her doctor, who had in the past and was still now, refusing to admit that they could do something about death.

“Do something!” Yukina leaped at the Medic, who took a large step backwards, avoiding Yukina’s flailing arms.

It was the other Medic who conceded though, throwing his arms up in defeat, “Fine then! Stop this madness! I’ll take care of the bird!”

“Oh good,” the Scout laughed, “I was starting to worry we’d have to deal with this cranky pants mourning the loss of Lady Liberty.”

“Lady who?” the Medic quipped.

The American Soldier suddenly saluted, “The eagle! Her name is Lady Liberty! Proud and strong like the country she represents!”

The Medic started growling in his native tongue, as he strode to the chair. He gently picked up the bird, shifting its wings gently. He viewed it from every angle before immediately turning to the Soldier, “This bird is a male.”

“I didn’t ask for your sass!” the Soldier barked.

Dr. Ashlynn chortled as they watched the doctor deal with the broken bird and the shouting Soldier. Yukina could only look on with confusion. What Dr. Ashlynn ever had to gain from refusing a patient medical attention was beyond her. What they found so amusing about this was incredulously outlandish to her as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both Pyro's are a bit F'd up in the head, each in their own way. Yukina is a particular case that Dr. Ashlynn has been working on since the girl was about nine.  
> And yes, Ashlynn is their name, but they prefer Ash as it implies a less feminine sound. Given their agender status and their line of work, they tend to rely on more masculine cues.
> 
> If you have not picked this up by now, I tend to write in the perspective of a character. That means that I only write things the way they would think about or know of them. Example, Yukina knows the Medic's name from a lifetime of being around them, but most everybody else is unaware of their name, meaning they only know them as "fem-medic" or Dr. Ash.
> 
> Also, I don't care to make Scout annoying in writing. He can go be annoying in the background of the story. It would be boring to write and boring to read.
> 
> I was tempted to use "しかったがない" for Dr. Ash's response to Pyro, which basically means "it cannot be helped" but I don't want to throw too much foreign language. But, in case anybody wanted to know it "shikatta ga nai" means "it cannot be helped"
> 
> Resident Pyro  
> Name: Unknown  
> Country of Origin: Unknown  
> Gender: Unknown  
> Visual Age: Unknown
> 
> New Pyro  
> Name: Yukina  
> Country of Origin: Japan  
> Gender: Female  
> Visual Age: 26


	10. Team Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The mercenaries are hopped up to break the tie on day 3. Most of the newer mercenaries have a communication system that their resident counter parts do not.

“Day three commencing,” Adaliz said, in a jesting robotic tone. She got a chuckle out of Shelly, which made her smile.

“So you’re on my turrets today, right?” Shelly asked, amidst chuckling.

“Yup! I got your back! I’ll be watching out for the other guy too,” she tilted back her ball cap to scratch the front of her scalp. She did not know the other Engineer very well, which felt odd because she had been spending a lot of time with this male dominant team.

She liked these guys. They were pretty gruff, and most of them were a lot older – older even than they appeared – but they liked rough housing, cussing, tossing glass bottles, getting drunk and playing poker. They tried to convince her to play strip poker, but she folded upon that idea.

The best part of it all was that she had learned so much American English slang from their conversations. She always wanted to get better at English, like she assumed most of her non-English speaking colleagues did. But these guys had been in America for at least the time they had been working here, and they all shared various cusses for anger and for calling each other names.

Perhaps that was the best part instead. She loved how they tossed around mean names. At first it seemed intimidating, like they were angry and mean to each other all the time. But with a closer look, and some assurance from Tanner, she came to find that this was all in good fun – it was all with a bit of love and a grain of salt.

“Mission begins in sixty seconds,” the Administrator announced.

“Alright! Alright!” Adaliz cheered, swinging her bat around excitedly. She was feeling great and ready for a good time.

“Adaliz!” Tanner caught her attention, “Let’s beat some BLUs in the face!”

“Yea!” she barked, nodding vigorously.

“So Demo and I have a plan to take the point,” Tanner said, nodding excitedly, “We’re gonna swing south while the Heavy and Medic teams keep the BLUs’ attentions. Then we take the point by surprise. They’ll probably have just a Soldier posted there or something. They hafta post somebody there, but they mostly gotta defend against us. Cause we’re freakin’ awesome! But, I mean, I could do it all myself…Soldiers really are nothing to deal with, but I figured maybe you’d like to help.”

“That sounds awesome!” Adaliz grew more and more excited as she thought about taking the victory for the team.

Shelly clearing her throat caught Adaliz’s attention. She looked at the redhead with confusion, blinking at her. She waited for the woman to actually express her thoughts.

“Aren’t you supposed to be covering our guns from sapping by Spy?” Shelly asked, with a small gesture of her hand.

Adaliz frowned, “Oh that’s right.” She turned back to Tanner, who did not seem to internalize what Shelly had said. “I’m posted on the sentries,” she explained to him, “I can’t go capture the point.”

“Oh, well…” he looked over his shoulder at the big Demoman, “Okay then.” He sidled off to join the big Scotsman and the two Soldiers.

Adaliz noted that John had joined their group well too. It seemed that he was well off with other men. It still felt odd though, since he came with their team. He was not loud and obnoxious like the American Soldier type, he was rather quiet in comparison to most of the men on their team, but still he seemed to like being around the loud and noisy rambunctious men than he did his old teammates.

Adaliz turned back to Shelly, “Why does the Medic act like we’re two separate teams if we’re supposed to be on the same team?”

“Hmm? How do you mean?” Shelly asked, her hands busily cleaning the oil and grime off of a piece of a sentry she was packing.

“The Medic doesn’t really plan for us to work with the rest of the team, you know? The resident team should be part of our plans, right?” she asked.

Shelly shrugged, “The Medic is aware of the situation. We can’t make them do what we do.”

“Yea, but shouldn’t the planning be done together? All of us?” Adaliz asked, “I mean, their Spy seems to be leader, so shouldn’t doc work with him?”

“I reckon the Medic wants them to see how efficiently our planning goes,” Shelly replied, simply.

“What we talkin’ about?” Lucy cut into the conversation.

“Talking about how the Medic doesn’t really take the other team into account with our planning,” Adaliz explained.

“How so?” Lucy asked, quirking an eyebrow at her.

“The Medic does…they just do it in a way that doesn’t seem obvious. We can adapt to the situation, our planning is just the foundation of our starting point, yea?” Shelly offered.

“Nah,” Adaliz shook her head, “If that was the case, wouldn’t they know what we are going to be doing?”

Lucy shrugged, “All I know is that I’m cappin’ point.”

“What?!” Adaliz exclaimed, flinching with surprise.

“Yea, found the control point in some of that info we retrieved the other day,” Lucy explained, “So I’m going with the other Demo and Scout to cap.”

“But I thought Medic said you were covering Nyaga!” Adaliz exclaimed.

“Mission begins in ten seconds!” the Administrator announced.

Lucy shrugged, “Cappin’ seems like the better idea.”

“Said who?” Shelly demanded, with a bit of irritation on her tongue.

“Well, after hearing Cletis’ plans, I figured I ought to help cap the point,” Lucy shrugged.

“Fuck’s sake! We’re supposed to stick to the plan! If you go off and fuck it up we’re gonna look bad!” Shelly exclaimed, with frustration.

The gates opened and the other started charging out. Shelly growled and threw a cap on, before she grabbed her boxed sentry and charged off. Adaliz followed with hesitation, feeling caught between two choices.

She moved to Shelly’s shoulder, “Shelly, do you want me to watch out for Spies for you?”

“Adaliz, I don’t give a fuck, just don’t fail this mission,” the woman growled, swinging her wrench wildly.

Adaliz felt guilty for asking, as she glanced over to where Tanner and the Demos were disappearing. She felt guilty for suggesting that she abandon the plan and abandon Shelly. So, she darted off to find a higher point from which to watch the Engineers’ sentries.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The sound of a decloak caught Shelly’s attention, “Spy around here!”

She spun, ready to catch the Spy when he came at her. She had her wrench on hand, ready to give him a mouthful of metal. Behind her, the sentry kept at its work of searching for enemies to shoot. There was nobody visibly around wearing the BLU uniforms, which looked rather similar to the RED uniforms with a change to logos and colors, but she really wished it could pick up on Spies under disguise.

She listened intently, but heard nothing over the noise the sentry made. She began to fret between the possibility that she had imagined it and the idea that she might even be taken for a fool for thinking that she had imagined the noise. She could not choose which, so she calmly remained vigilant and watchful, with one hand ready to help her little sentry.

“Have some metal Engie!” she heard the familiar French girl call from overhead as she darted across buildings.

The metal fell a bit far from her, as Adaliz did not want to drop it on the Engineer’s head. Shelly looked at the metal begrudgingly, feeling caught between a rock and a hard place. She would not let down her guard with the possibility of a Spy lurking near her little sentry.

“Spy around here!” she called out to Adaliz.

“I’m on this!” Adaliz leaped down from the roof of the building, swinging her bat wildly, as if to fend off any invisible attackers.

“Watch my sentry!” Shelly darted for the metal, snatching it up quickly. As she turned, pushing off of her prosthetic leg, she felt a sharp pain between her spine and her shoulder blade.

She cried out in pain, but it was too late. The Spy chuckled as she fell to the ground, reveling in his success.

“Shelly!” Adaliz called out, bounding for the Spy, with her bat raised.

“Protect the sentry!” Shelly called out weakly, but Adaliz was already by her side and the Spy had cloaked.

“Shelly, you alright? You’re gonna be okay!” the girl was caught between asking and reassuring. Perhaps she was trying to reassure herself of the whole thing.

“The sentry girl! There’s a Spy!” Shelly groaned. She did not bother to pick herself up, though Adaliz grabbed her shoulders to try to lift her. The girl was not strong enough to pick up the stout Irish woman, but that did not stop her from trying.

A deep voice spoke in French, a language Shelly did not understand nor did she care to learn. There was something she did understand from it though, a tone of threat. Shelly wanted to hit the girl for being so off guard, as the man quickly stabbed Adaliz between the shoulder blades. The girl cried out in pain as she fell on top of Shelly.

That was when everything went black and she felt crushed into a tube of some sort…

Shelly’s eyes snapped open as she landed on her feet. She took a deep breath, taking in the life-giving oxygen. It was relieving to finally be awake and alive, though the approximate ten minutes seemed to have been but a moment. Just knowing that she had been practically dead for about ten minutes made her feel unsettled.

She did not let it slow her as she darted for her locker, stuffing her pockets full of metal to be turned into little sentries. She filled the extra space with bullets to fill her turrets with.

The noise of somebody respawning caught her attention, as Adaliz appeared. The girl landed on her sneakers and looked around. She suddenly took a loud gasping breath as she darted towards Shelly.

“Shell I’m so sorry! I’m so so sorry!” the girl pleaded.

“It’s okay kid, you just need to think before you do,” Shelly shook her head, grabbing a spare wrench before she headed out the gate.

She could hear Adaliz hurriedly stuffing her pockets with ammunition. When she caught up with Shelly, she was carrying a scatter gun, with the bat strapped to her back. She loaded the gun as she jogged out ahead.

“This time, watch out for my sentries,” Shelly scorned.

“Shelly!” a voice screamed over the earpiece.

Shelly winced in pain, pausing to rub her ear, “I’m here, girl. No need to scream.”

“Shelly! They’re taking the base! Defend the base! DEFEND THE BASE!” the voice screeched.

The line cut off and Shelly was left to ponder. She had no idea who had been screaming in her ear. It could have been any of the female mercenaries, but she had never heard this kind of scream before. With best guess she would have guessed that Adaliz was the voice over the earpieces, but Adaliz was near her and was not screaming.

“Adaliz, let’s take our things to base,” Shelly hefted her box under her arm.

“Alright let’s go!” Adaliz adjusted the earpiece in her ear as she disappeared into the main area of the base.

When Shelly toddled after her, she did not expect to be confronted so soon. With Adaliz off inside the base, Shelly was standing in a doorway with the barrel end of a Spy’s Ambassador pointed at her forehead. She started to move away, to duck around the corner, but she knew it was too late.

“Fuck’s sake,” she managed to say just before the bullet went through her head.

She was squeezed through the process of respawn once again. With a frustrated huff she landed on her feet. She merely growled as she proceeded to stuff her pockets full of metal and bullets. She paused to grab a shotgun that she could switch to upon sighting the enemy. She grabbed a box that was packed with a disassembled sentry to be assembled near the intelligence.

She charged off to the base’s main area. She hurried through the dimly lit halls, hurrying towards the intelligence. Her mind was full of fury and the thought of the Spy bettering Adaliz.

The girl was a typical Scout, hot headed, slower at thinking than she was at flapping her jaws, even in a secondary language, and too loud to hide from a Spy. The man probably took her out right after Shelly fell to his bullet. The thought made her grimace with anger, and hurry her step.

She stumbled to a halt when she came upon a lump of felt and flesh. She looked down at it in surprise, “What the…?”

“Hey Shell!” Adaliz caught her attention.

She blinked at the girl in surprise, “Wha…?”

“Set up your nest, I just took out the enemy Demo,” Adaliz explained, “The Spy might be here in a few more minutes, if he decides to try again. They might even have backup coming our way.”

“Alright then,” Shelly stepped past the body and headed past Adaliz to set up the sentry gun.

She quickly set up the sentry gun and then a dispenser. If they had an enemy come their way, they needed to be prepared.

“Sorry about earlier,” Adaliz said, loading her scatter gun.

“Sorry?” Shelly’s head snapped up.

“I shoulda done what we came to do,” Adaliz stated, “Stick together.”

Shelly chuckled and nodded, “Let’s see ‘em get past this team.”

“Heh, yea!” Adaliz smiled broadly, bouncing on the balls of her feet.

Shelly smirked, “Good team work, by the way.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

“This will only hurt a lot,” the BLU Medic approached, his bone saw ready, and a big grin across his face.

Ash ducked aside as the man brought his saw down. They pushed off of the wall, toddling on one good leg. Ash’s other leg had already been torn apart, dangling with the fibula and tibula completely severed, only the tissue and skin at the back of the calf holding it.

It would be better to just let the man kill them. Ash was sure that their current condition could not be fixed by any of their tools. But, the man attacking had no intention of killing, because he was enjoying their screams and outbursts against the pain. Torture was something he reveled in, enjoying every moment of the victim fighting back, with tears burning their eyes, and medically measured injuries weighing them down from running away.

Ash glanced over at the quick fix they had dropped. There was very little chance of getting to it, and very little chance of it fixing the entire leg that was severed, but they still had to try. So, they braced against the wall and flung forward, charging for the weapon.

“Tut tut!” the man grabbed them by the arm.

Ash howled in fear, cringing away as he brought his saw on their arm. Ash grit their teeth and tried not to struggle as he sawed through the bone. They had to bite down on their lower lip to avoid making noise, like screaming, which was probably what he wanted.

“I’m here doctor!” a familiar voice darted into the door. Lucy drew her sword, crouching to launch herself at the German cutting into her Medic.

The man turned to her, but his bone saw did not reach her before her sword went through his sternum. She immediately rotated the hilt, cutting through his internal organs to ensure death. She struggled with his body as he collapsed forward, using a foot to help herself pull the blade out.

“Glad to see you’re alive, doc,” Lucy finally freed the blade and turned to Ash.

“Please kill me,” Ash shuddered, as a wave of pain racked their entire body. It forced an uncontrollable sob from their throat.

“Holy shit,” Lucy looked over at the Medic with wide eyes and surprise. She had not taken in the full damage before now.

“Lucy, you’re wasting my time,” Ash called her attention to the fact that she was hesitating.

“Right, okay,” Lucy raised her sword and brought it down heavily on Ash’s skull, cutting through the back of the brain as the head tilted forwards.

Ash was crushed into the respawn system, their life force surging into a brand new body in the stuffy little room full of lockers. When their boots landed on the floor, Ash darted to the lockers and began filling their pockets with supplies. Little time was spared as they darted off to assess the situation in the base.

When Ash came to the intel, they found the enemy Demoman being gunned down by Shelly’s sentry. They were momentarily surprised, watching as Adaliz chased down the enemy Scout with a swinging bat.

“Adaliz?” Ash called after her, but the girl was already gone.

“Hey doc!” Shelly caught the Medic’s attention, bringing them to the intel room.

“Oh hey,” the Medic looked over the room, assessing what had become the Engineer’s nest.

“Glad you could join us,” Shelly stated, “We’re just working on defense. So far they have only sent the Spy, Scout and Demo at us. I think we’re handling it well. Adaliz has been a helpful back-”

She cut off, her head tilting slightly, as if listening to a sound. She suddenly bared her teeth, grinding them angrily.

“Spy around here!” she declared, pulling out a shotgun.

The Medic sighed and switched out the kritzkrieg for the bone saw, “Protect the intelligence.”

They turned and headed back down the hallway. They moved cautiously, listening for the sound of footsteps or dead ringers. They reached into a pocket with their free hand, taking out the assorted green powder. Its minute use of paint would mark anybody it touched, so they were cautious when using it, as they did not want green on their palms. It was definitely useful against a Spy though. The green would not be apparent if the Spy went under cloak or dead ringer when it was touching them, but it would keep the thick smell of paint.

They waited, listening intently for the footsteps. Surely a Spy would be along shortly. Somebody would come for their intelligence.

“Medic? Are you there?” Sofia’s voice came over the earpiece.

Ash lowered their voice, “Yea? What is it?”

“I require backup, Jules is injured and I’m being camped by BLU Pyro,” Sofia explained hurriedly, “I’m up at the northern tower, but nobody can seem to get up here and help us!”

“I won’t make it,” Ash shook their head.

“Grace of Allah, please help,” Sofia pleaded, her tone growing soft and whiney.

Ash sighed, pausing to check the halls around them again. Aside from the beeping of the sentry from back at the intel room, it was quiet. It was almost the perfect setting to listen for footsteps, until they heard Adaliz running back.

“Anybody know where the other Medic is?” Ash asked over the ear piece.

There was a long silence before Nyaga answered, “Medic is in with me. We are in battle with BLU Heavy and Medic.”

“What about Ta- I mean Scout?” Ash asked, barely catching themselves on the boy’s name.

“Yo I’m right here with Shelly?” they heard Adaliz’s voice on the airwaves and coming from down the hall.

“Not you, boy Scout,” Ash growled.

“He’s here with Medic and me,” Nyaga replied.

“Send him to the northern tower,” Ash told her, firmly, “Have him take something from the Medic to help Sniper with wounds.”

They vaguely heard Tanner’s voice shouting over the earpiece as Nyaga tried to explain to the boy what they needed him to do. All the while, Nyaga had forgotten to turn off her earpiece.

“You can turn off the earpiece!” Adaliz spoke over the radio waves.

“Don’t bother her, she has bigger things to deal with!” Shelly scorned.

“Will somebody get up here and help me?!” Sofia’s voice grew loud.

“Medic is asking that you come to us, Medic,” Nyaga stated.

“I’ll be right there,” Ash replied, “I’m leaving Shelly and Adaliz at defense.”

“I’ll come be your backup,” Lucy called.

“Hey doc, while you’re out there, fry that BLU Scout for me. Will ya?” Adaliz asked over the earpiece, though the Medic could still hear her loud voice echoing through the hallways.

“Why?” Ash rolled their eyes as the hurried out into the blistering sunlight. It was a huge reminder that they were no longer in the cold mountains of Colorado.

“That guy’s a prick and needs more come uppins than he knows is comin’!” the girl said, with eager disdain for the enemy Scout.

Ash sighed with irritation, as they switched the bone saw for their kritzkrieg, prepared to heal any allies they came across, “I’ll do what I can.”

“Thanks doc!” Adaliz chuckled.

“Adaliz, get off the airwaves!” Nonna barked.

“What? Am I disturbing you, Spy?” Adaliz was chuckling.

Ash could only roll their eyes as they listened to Nonna complain about how annoying Adaliz’s voice was when she was trying to play the part of an American Scout. Nonna would go on and on about how the girl’s usually pretty French tones were sour when she pretended to be American.

This was of no consequence to Ash, it was simply a distraction. They needed to focus on their work. And they had a lot of work before them as they came upon the Demos, Medic, two Heavy, both Soldiers and one of the Pyros trying to push forward into the enemy’s base.

Tanner came charging out of a door to join the fray of fighting. He was shouting and laughing excitedly as he jumped around like a lunatic. He certainly beat Adaliz in the heights he could jump, leaping and bounding so high that he could get to rooftops, from which he could get better vantage points.

“Sofia? Update?” Ash asked, as they aimed their kritzkrieg at one of the two Soldiers. They could not tell which one it was, as both of them were facing away and they looked relatively the same in their Soldier uniform.

“Jules is bandaged but won’t be moving much,” Sofia responded, “He says he’ll be fine, so I’m going to take to moving while he nests.”

Ash looked around to assess which of the teammates were around. They raised a hand to call Tanner’s attention. It immediately caught his eye, but it took him a while to actually respond.

“Yea?” he asked, as he jumped down from a building. They were a bit amazed that the boy could leap so far without breaking his legs.

“Keep an eye on that tower,” the pointed, “Don’t let anybody sneak up on the Sniper.”

“On it! Got it!” he bounded off before they could say anything more.

This brought another sigh of irritation from them. This was the very reason Shelly had made the radio wave transmitting earpieces in the first place. They could all stay in touch with each other, even when they were far away. It was especially beneficial to keeping them organized.

“Oh shit! Medic, we’ve got two Spies in here!” Lucy called over the earpiece.

“What?” Ash responded, turning the healing beam to the other Soldier.

“Two Spies in the base!” Lucy answered.

“What?” was all Ash could manage before the enemy Demo’s explosives blew them and several teammates off of their feet.

“Both claim to be RED!” Lucy exclaimed, her voice rising in pitch.

“Holy shit, this is awesome!” Adaliz put in.

“No it’s not, kill one!” Lucy intervened.

“Doc, do you know anything about the resident Spy?” Shelly asked, hopeful for a helpful answer.

Ash scrambled to their feet, darting into a building to get out of the line of fire long enough to heal their wounds. The harsh burning of their skin was enough to bring a tear to their eye.

“I don’t know anything about him, Engie,” Ash said, before darting back out into the fray. They aimed the kritzkrieg at the Pyro.

Nonna’s voice came into the conversation, “Just kill both. It is waste of time to try and figure it out. You cannot afford to have enemy Spy lingering around.”

“Already on it!” Adaliz laughed, “Bam! Pow!”

She seemed to be making sound effects for herself as she beat the Spies with her bat. Ash could tell from the outcries of pain that came over her speaking. It was like a choir of French voices.

“Medic!” Ash was unfamiliar with the voice that called out to them.

They hurried towards the voice, amazed to find that the German Medic had been injured. Sven was lying on the ground, with one hand trying to stop the bleeding in his side. His leg was torn asunder and blood was spattered everywhere. They reacted on instinct, shooting him with the kritzkrieg, but soon realized that the leg would not heal enough, with how much damage it had taken. They hesitated, slowly taking out the bone saw.

“Get to the point!” Sven added some odd curse in German.

Ash bit the lower lip as they brought a calculated blow down upon his neck, then sawed in where they were to cause the fastest mortality damage. His head dangled to the side and then he went limp. For a moment they sighed in relief, before they realized that their hands were hot with blood.

Ash looked down at the red on their fingers. It was red like their teammates’ uniforms. It was redder than most reds they had ever known. It was a familiar color, yet so distinctly alien that it did not belong outside of the human body. It felt like they were looking at their sins painted upon their hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Adaliz does things faster than she thinks.  
> Writing an agender character without using any gendered pronouns is a lot more difficult to do than one would think.  
> This whole fic has turned into fun practice for me. I usually do more original work, and never thought I would do a fan fiction. But this is turning out to be both fun and helpful. I have literally gotten more critical/helpful feedback on this fic than any original work I have ever done. LOL
> 
> More character profiles:
> 
> Resident Engineer  
> Name: Alan  
> Country of Origin: Texas, United States  
> Gender: Male  
> Visual Age: 58
> 
> Fem-Engineer  
> Name: Shelly  
> Country of Origin: Ireland  
> Gender: Female  
> Visual Age: 46
> 
> Resident Scout  
> Name: Tanner  
> Country of Origin: Boston, Massachusetts, United States  
> Gender: Male  
> Visual Age: 25
> 
> Fem-Scout  
> Name: Adaliz  
> Country of Origin: France  
> Gender: Female  
> Visual Age: 29


	11. Meet the Actress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna has some secrets, and she's set out to meet with some codenamed mercenaries on behalf of her team on the Administrator's orders.

“Alright, we need to make an upgrade,” the French Spy announced.

It caught a few team members by surprise, but the rest were involved in doing something else. Sven was bandaging Lucy. Cletis had drunk himself to sleep. The Scouts were chattering, despite how tired they were. And the others were either dozing off or unloading their pockets.

Shelly decided to engage the Spy in conversation, “How so?”

“These devices you use to communicate,” he gently touched her ear, a leather glove finger brushing against her ear lobe so gently. It caused heat to rise to her face, turning her bright red. “We need every teammate to be able to communicate.”

“This seems like a cheating thing,” the youngest man butted in.

Adaliz followed on his heels, “How so? We use them all the time!”

“Well…the other team doesn’t have these,” he pointed to his own ear, as if there would be an earpiece there.

“They can make it if they want it,” Shelly shook her head, “That’s how it works. If one team upgrades, the other must adapt on their own. That’s how this job works. It’s not cheating when it’s war.”

“Then why would Administration have laws against moving loose papers?” the Scout pushed, with a bit of anger in his voice, “You know? Because there’s rules!”

“We have used these near nine years now,” Shelly pointed to her own ear, “I don’t know why they would be any problem here in the desert when we were allowed to use them up in the mountains.”

“She’s right,” Adaliz nodded, “They’re really useful when you don’t got time to stop and chat. You know? You can keep going but communicate and shit.”

“Scout,” the Spy took on an assuring tone of voice, “This is not a cheat. It is simply the way we must move in order to improve.”

The Scout grumbled, but he said nothing more. He just folded his arms and sort of pouted. Shelly took that as her chance to resume the more important conversation.

“So, you want devices for the rest of the team?” she asked the Spy.

“But of course,” he pulled a cigarette out of his disguise kit.

“It’ll take a while to make,” Shelly admitted, “But I’ll get ‘em done. Should have ‘em ready by the end of the week.”

The man muttered something in French, before he nodded, “Very well then.” With that, he made his way into the base, likely to go hide in his own space.

Shelly noted Adaliz out of the corner of her eye and turned to the girl and snapped her fingers, “What’d he say?”

Adaliz snickered, trying to suppress a smile, “Well...he uh…he said ‘fuck’ and then you know the rest.”

Shelly reached out and swatted the girl, “Watch your language!”

Adaliz laughed as she darted away, “It’s English! And you asked!”

“Wait, is that what that means?” the other Scout asked, with surprise drawn across his face. Adaliz nodded, snickering all the while. “I thought that meant something else!”

The two headed off into the base, chattering together about how much the Spies irritated them. Shelly turned her attention from the two to the man in a hardhat.

Alan was packing away the remains of a sentry, prepping it for use the next day. He chuckled when he saw her, wiping his hands off on a dirty rag. He gave her a playful smile.

“I’ve heard you cuss more’n I could keep track of, and that one says one word that offends you?” he was chuckling.

“She’s just a girl,” Shelly shrugged it off, “Young ladies like that should watch their mouths. Too late for somebody like me to change. But she could be a well-rounded young lady if she had the discipline.”

He laughed again, “Welp, given she’s a Scout, I imagine you won’t get her anywhere near disciplined. I mean, we tried with Tanner, but he’s just as absurd as ever.”

Shelly chuckled, “Oh really? Tried to turn that one into a gentleman or something?”

“Tried to be a gentleman like the Spy,” he explained, “He wanted to impress Miss Pauling you see. But it seems that Miss Pauling isn’t one to be impressed, and doesn’t get involved with those she works with…or around.”

Shelly started laughing, “Oh…I’ve seen Miss Pauling stand against plenty of those types.”

“How do you mean? Some ol’ Scout try it?” Alan snickered.

She chuckled, “You could say that. Heard a Spy on BLU tried it. Even more I-”

She bit her lip before she spoke ill of Nonna. She almost mentioned their team’s Spy and her promiscuous behavior towards Miss Pauling early on. Of course, she could not say if it was from the upstart of Nonna’s work with RED, but when Shelly first met the woman she would flirt with just about anyone.

“Somethin’ caught your attention?” he asked.

“Er…no,” she blushed with shame, “I just…think I should stop talking before I say something I will regret.”

He nodded in agreement, “I understand.”

She hunched her shoulder, feeling so ashamed of herself. She used to be so good about minding herself and behaving. She was one of the first to side with the Medic on things of sensitivity. Sure Shelly would not censor her mouth, as various offensive words were integral to her vocabulary, but when it came to other forms of sensitivity she agreed entirely.

*********************************************************************

 

Once again, they won the match. It was a wonderful feeling to have won once again. The entire team returned to the base cheering amongst themselves.

For Spy, this was the best chance to slip into the shadows. Usually Nonna would take her time with toying with each man. It was easiest when they were happy and cheery, but she had taken the time to toy with them during the times they had lost. It was a good way to get some of them to smile.

Now though, she needed them to be distracted with their cheerful drinking and socializing. Even the Medic would socialize a little bit before they retreated to their own little space. The Sniper would even enjoy the company of others, before the drinking and partying got to be too much for the modest woman to stand.

Nonna would have enjoyed a dip into whatever alcoholic drinks were in stock, but she needed to be sober for what she needed to do as well. She had done a lot of work since arriving and she needed everything to fall into place properly. Nothing could go wrong, lest the French Spy caught onto what she was up to.

If she was any other Spy – which the majority of them were French, be they male or female – she would be wearing a balaclava. She used to wear a balaclava. It had been an itchy nasty thing to cover her beautiful hair. Since taking it off, she had enjoyed letting her hair grow out over her shoulders, curling at its tips to give it a bouncy appearance.

When she started this job, she had been just another Spy to everybody. Even her voice had been tempered, using a vague French accent so that none of her teammates would ever know the difference between her and the enemy. She had worked like this for over two years.

Things changed when she neared that third year. It was then that Administration had finally admitted to knowing that she was an actress prior to her Spy work. They were aware of this and wanted her to do things for them.

The downside of this all was that she had to redefine her position as the Spy, using her acting practice to actually play up everything she did and every emotional reaction she had or pretended to have. While the Frenchmen were busy hiding their emotional responses, she fooled even the other Spies by making them assume that she was less of a Spy than she claimed. They saw her expressive face and the way she entertained every human emotion, and they assumed that she was the fool.

When she came to the back entrance of the base, she paused at the video camera. She slumped her hips to the side, placing a hand on them for emphasis, and a small smirk. To the others here, these were the Administrator’s eyes and ears to their world. But Nonna knew the truth about the recordings at the monitor end of the system.

She smirked, “Everything’s falling into place, Administrator. I’ll be meeting with your little Snake and the Bug as you called them. I will be in the location, if you would like to let him know that the meeting’s about to commence. And if you will, keep an eye on those other mercenaries for us. We’ll need our space for this meeting.”

There were a few moments of silence to respond to her. The camera moved, taking in the rest of the area, an automated system of moving parts. She did not wait as she headed out the door and off towards the location she was told about. After some time to scope out the area, she had plenty of chance to figure out where she needed to be.

When she found the pole she had marked, she found that it had new markings. She would have been ready to wave it off as being markings from the fighting, such as burns. But with a small flashlight and a closer look, she found that these were deliberate markings carved into the wood.

She glanced up at the building it was attached too, a falling apart old shed-like thing. Its rickety appearance made most hesitate about entering it. It looked like it would keel over at any moment, and perhaps it would. So long as it did not collapse before she was out, she did not care, so she entered the quickly thickening darkness of the room.

The musty smell greeted her as she made her way towards the back. She had already found the door she needed a hatch that was usually hidden beneath fallen rubble. That was why this meeting place was in such a building, because nobody thought they would come to such a place and crawl in under all of that rubbish.

When she managed to slip in beyond the debris, through the cracked door, she let her feet slip past the rungs of a ladder straight to the floor. Her boot heels click loudly on the floor, minding her of the height she stood with those three inch Italian leather kicks. She paused to brush away the dust and cobwebs that fell about her shoulders and hair when the door banged shut.

It was dark in here, save for her tiny flashlight. The torch’s light gave her only a spotlight view of the room, so she made quick use of shining it everywhere. She wanted to get to know the area well before the other two people arrived.

She had made some guesses in her mind about who the two men would be, but she was not sure. So far, the best guess was the Spy, but that was a given. It was necessary for the Spies to be clever, and they seemed like the best guesses. But, in the time he had spent questioning her about her team, and rolling his eyes at how childish or otherwise not-Spy-like she was, she had come to the conclusion that he had no clue about any of this.

She briefed over the corners and the dimensions of the room, getting a better handle on just how big it was. To her disappointment – mostly because she always wanted something to question – the only things in the room were a table and four chairs. She could not imagine there being a fourth occupant, but it was likely the fourth was placed there as much for pretense of some other meeting as much as for symmetrical aesthetics.

She paused to wipe a chair clean, not wanting to sit her wool slacks in dust. Even worse, she did not want to sit on a spider. She did not particularly like arachnids and would rather the creatures died.

Ironic, since the woman’s code name had been Spider. She had always thought about code names and what they would be for others. She imagined for a Sniper it would be Scorpion, specifically for Sofia. She once joked that Shelly would be dumb enough to be called Leprechaun, because it was not clever but the woman would settle with anything to avoid thinking too deeply about something that was not scientific or mathematic. For most Soldiers, she imagined they would go with the Eagle, but she had decided that John Smith’s codename would more likely be Lion, given he was not American.

Her thoughts were cut off when she heard the shuffle of feet overhead. Somebody was arriving to the meeting, and he was not very stealthy about it. He was especially noisy when he hastily chucked some debris away from the door. He was probably completely unaware that somebody was in there, given that they had not done just what he had done.

She seated herself so that she could watch the ladder. She held the little flashlight in hand, ready to flick it on when she needed it. She was growing ever curious to know who was coming to this little party.

Some muffled grunting filled the air as a foot reached for the ladder. Slowly a broad figure lowered himself down. He looked up though, motioning with one hand to somebody above him.

She smirked to herself, finding that they had both arrived together. They probably thought they had gotten here before her, and might even have to wait for the Spider to find her way in. She refrained from giggling or chortling, lest she gave herself away. She was not yet ready for them to know her presence, as the figures lowered themselves into the darkness.

When the second man started reaching for the rungs, he slipped and almost fell on the other. There was some muffled noise, as he grasped wildly for a better reach than the edge of the hole. Below him, she could barely make out arms that reached up, prepared to catch him if he fell.

“Don’t be an idiot comin’ down,” the familiar thick Texan accent was clear as daylight.

She bit her lip as she gave herself the time to roll this around in her mind. It was not the enemy Engineer, whose accent was a little softer, leaning towards a more Northern sound. This voice was thick, heavy and rich.

She had a hunch about the other man, so she flicked on the flash light, aiming it right at the second man’s thighs. True to her hunch, the light fell upon the blue suit of the enemy Pyro. His legs were moving around, searching for the rungs.

The man with the goggles looked around, trying to see past the beam of light to its owner. She was smirking to herself, watching as the RED Engineer tried to help the BLU Pyro find the rung. She cleared her throat softly, as she switched her voice out for a male Frenchman, mimicking the resident RED Spy.

“Oh please, don’t get hung up because of me,” she taunted them in the Frenchman’s accent.

The Engineer was startled, fear perpetrating his face. He turned his attention completely away from the BLU Pyro to try and find out who was behind the flash light. She could already see beads of sweat dripping down his moistening face.

“H- Y- Spider?” the Engineer spoke hesitantly.

Nonna wanted to laugh, but waited as the Pyro finally dropped down. The man- woman- whatever they were, was shorter than the Texan, so he gave a loud grunt when he landed, having previously intended to take the ladder.

This time she chose to taunt them in the resident Sniper’s voice, with a thick Aussie drawl, “Perhaps you should have thought of better attire when picking to climb down into a dark pit, mate.”

“Y- You are…” the Engineer moved hesitantly around the table.

She grinned as she imitated the resident Scout, “What are you expecting?”

She noted that the Pyro’s attention was now turned to climbing back up the ladder. They were surprisingly adept as they reached back up and brought something down with them. It clinked against everything it touched, telling her that it was made of at least metal and glass.

“Spy?” he moved hesitantly, the light shining towards him to blind him from her face.

She switched to the Texan’s own voice, “Don’t look so frightened partner. I’m not the Spy you was expecting. Don’t let it eat you up.”

He hesitated, mulling over her words. He stared blankly at darkness, the light blinding him for a while. He seemed to be calculating his options from there, about whether he should move at all.

Suddenly, a light flickered on as the Pyro managed to light a very bright lantern. She quickly turned her now-useless flashlight off and tucked it away. She let her grin get as wide as it could though, marveling at her own skills in making the poor American sweat in his boots.

“Surely you saw this coming?” she asked, letting her voice settle into its natural state.

The Engineer relaxed, his shoulders lowering. His tense expression became reduced to exhaustion caused by that fear. It showed in the sweat upon his brow.

“Well, ain’t you the one to be called a spider,” he clicked his tongue with disgust.

The Pyro made some noise behind his mask, but neither of them could tell what was being said. Neither of them asked at first, but that seemed to bother them.

The Pyro popped the mask off, revealing a pale face set with amber brown eyes and brown hair. The colors in his hair and the amber of his eyes looked like flames in the flickering light. She almost ooh’d at the sight.

“Right,” the Engineer cleared his throat, picking up one of the chairs. He did not sit down yet, though. He seemed a little too hesitant, “This is Bug and I’m the Snake.”

“Snake?” she threw her head back and laughed.

He shot her what seemed to be a glare from behind the goggles, “You have a problem with that?”

She laughed some more, “Not at all! But seeing you flirt with Shelly? You’re more of a dog begging for a bone than a snake.”

He grumbled something under his breath before he spoke up clearly, “I ain’t sweet on her. It’s just Administration-” She raised a hand to cut him off, then motioned to the Pyro to sit down.

The man hesitated before he took the invitation. He was silent as he placed the lantern in the middle of the table, seating himself across from the Spy. He was a nervous type, not because of the meeting, but because he was generally anxious. She could tell by the way he moved and acted that this was normally him behind the mask, eyes darting around slowly, moving around anywhere but towards the people he was with. They were not sporadic movements of somebody who was scared of the meeting, they were calculated movements, made precisely to avoid certain things that would upset him.

“Honestly, I was expecting the Medic,” the Engineer finally said, as he seated himself.

She turned her attention back to him, “What gave you that stupid idea?”

He flinched at her offensive response, “She’s in command. In control. The Administrator favors that above all.”

She laughed heartily, “I assure you, the Medic is completely unaware to all of this. They all are.”

“That said,” the Pyro’s Colombian accent threw her for a loop. Perhaps it was because he was so pale in complexion. Perhaps it was just that she had not heard the accent in a long time that she just assumed he would be American. “I have some news from Pauling.”

The Engineer nodded, “Go ahead then.”

The Pyro shifted in his chair, trying to get more comfortable. He would not get any more comfortable though, as he was stuck in the gazes of these two people. She began to wonder if them both being REDs made him more uncomfortable, but she decided against asking that question.

“BLU is receiving a new team as well,” he explained.

The Spy almost reacted but she kept her expression tightly in check. She had not received any such intel about a new BLU team, but she had had her hunches. When they first arrived, she had assumed that BLU was going to be receiving a new team around the same time. The Administrator liked to keep things symmetric after all. That was the point in the teams having the same numbers of the same kinds of mercenaries.

“Anything about it yet?” the Engineer asked.

The Pyro shook his head slowly, “I was…a bit distracted.” He winced and turned a bit red, as though he was remembering something embarrassing.

Nonna delighted in that expression. It was a sweet expression that had people in a type of mindset that could easily be manipulated. People could easily be made to feel even worse in that state, which made things either fun or easier to control.

“Let me guess,” the Engineer grumbled, “Your lighter?”

The Pyro cringed away, “I haven’t got a long attention span!”

The Engineer rolled his eyes with an irritated sigh, “I swear, you and the RED are too similar.”

That made Nonna curious, “Oh really? Is that so?”

He looked up at her, a bit confusedly. He scrunched his brow, pushing against the edges of his goggles.

“I have not seen his face if that is what you are wondering,” he stated, in a scornful tone.

Nonna rolled her eyes and turned to the Pyro, “Anything else we should know then?”

His eyes quickly turned to the table and he shook his head. He put his hands together to twiddle his thumbs. His eyes alighted on the lantern’s light, taking it in as if it might become absorbed into his brilliant irises.

“With that out of the way, do you have anything to share, Spy?” the Engineer turned to her. She was only a little put off by the emphasis on her title. “Being as you’re a Spy and all, I imagine you’ve gathered some intel along the way,” the Engineer offered, “We could use a bit more than just a little incite to this female team.”

“Female dominant team,” she corrected.

“Pardon?” he quirked an eyebrow at her, curiously.

“I know he is quiet and falls into the background, but surely you haven’t forgotten our Soldier?” she offered.

He paused, pushing up his hard hat to scratch at the side of his shaved scalp. He was mulling over the classes he knew of. She could almost see him counting each person in his head. It made her want to chuckle with just a hint of animosity.

“That boy Soldier’s been pestering?” it finally clicked in the Engineer’s head.

She nodded slowly. She took him in from beneath lidded eyes, giving him a condescending expression.

“Guess I forgot about him,” he scratched his head again.

“Your team follows the Medic’s orders, right?” the Pyro interrupted.

Nonna gave him a curious quirk of the eyebrow. The only reason he would want to know this information was to calculate things on the battlefield. She decided against giving him the outright true information.

“The Medic, they are not like other Medics. We handle them with kid gloves, and like Soldier, let them play with power when need be,” she lied easily, “Not easy to let somebody who is actually smart take that power though, but you get what you get.”

The Pyro nodded, his eyes holding the light. He looked like he was mesmerized by its hypnotic powers, even while he was listening. Nonna found herself lost in the tint of light glinting off of his amber irises.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's some more character notes:  
> Resident Sniper  
> Name: Jules  
> Country of Origin: (New Zealander) Australia  
> Gender: Male  
> Visual Age: 47
> 
> Fem Sniper  
> Name: Sofia  
> Country of Origin: Iraq  
> Gender: Female  
> Visual Age: 35
> 
> Fem Spy  
> Name: Nonna (or at least that's what she says it is)  
> Country of Origin: Russia  
> Gender: Female  
> Visual Age: 34 (though she claims a little lower)


	12. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna, Alan and the BLU Pyro have a meeting about things the rest of their teams do not know about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know why I am so hesitant to post this chapter. I actually finished it right after the last chapter, but did not post it because- I don't know why. Maybe because I'm not done with the next chapter...and there will be so many questions. Just know that I am planning to answer them.

Nonna hunched over the table, gazing tiredly at the plans. They were the Administrator’s orders, like a grocery list of things that needed to happen. It was not usual to do stuff like this, not with such an extensive list, but it had to be done one way or another. If it did not happen, their work was at stake, which meant their immortality was at stake as well.

“I still don’t get the fuss about pairings,” the Engineer huffed. He was still rather red in the face after having to discuss his pairing with Shelly.

He already knew what he was supposed to be doing. He did not need to be reminded of it, but it was fun to toy with him. He just could not stand that it was tugging at his morals.

“Well, our next move is to move Pyro away from her, which if their newfound relations to your Pyro show anything, she might just get distracted with your buddy instead,” Nonna offered.

“Why is that?” the Engineer peered curiously at the list. The thing Nonna had mentioned was nowhere in the plans.

“Because on the other network they were paired,” she explained to the man, “Though I’m not entirely sure Shelly has been aware of it, the Pyro has fawned over her a great deal. It'll be important to sever some of that bond.”

There was a long drawn out silence in the room. They sat there around the dimly lit table, with a single lantern. It had gone dim after a while, as the wick and the oil went lower and lower.

Across from Nonna, the Pyro was getting tired. His eyes began to sag and his body was showing signs of fatigue. His distant gaze might as well have been staring at an invisible bed.

“You alright there?” she ducked her head, trying to catch his eye level.

He quickly avoided her, “I was just thinking…when the new BLU team arrives, we’ll have to do this over again, won’t we?”

The Engineer nodded slowly. Nonna sighed at the fickle comment, “It’s got to be done. Besides, we’ll have to meet whoever’s on the BLU team as well. Your side can’t come up short by sending a sleepy Pyro for both halves.”

At that he blinked at her, as if renewed with energy, “I’m not sleepy!”

She snickered and turned to the Engineer, “I think we’ve all got the gist of what we need to do. Perhaps we should turn in for the night and try at this again another time.”

He nodded slowly again, “I reckon we’ll need rest for tomorrow. There’s much to be done on this list.”

He stopped to look down at it again. That was when she saw the wave of fatigue. He seemed to only just realize how tired he was, as his eyes closed and his body wavered. His eyes popped back open and he rubbed his hands over his face.

“Don’t cry about it,” Nonna shrugged, “It’ll be easier than you realize.”

“I’m worried about Spy,” he noted.

She hesitated, pondering the Frenchman. She figured he had no clues about what was going on, but the man had a mind fit for a real Spy. She had seen so many Spies slip into some form of crazed delusions from all of the mindless killing and returning from death, but this man had a very level head and a sensibility about him that made her wary. She would not underestimate his abilities.

“So long as we keep our intentions safe, he knows nothing,” she told him, “He can’t know if we don’t tell him the real reasons behind the strings.”

“You think it’s that simple?” the Pyro asked, tiredly. He looked so haggard as he looked between the two of them.

“Maybe it’s time to turn in,” Nonna started to rise from her chair.

The Engineer raised a hand, motioning for her to wait, “I have a question…for you specifically.”

She hesitated, seating herself slowly. When she was comfortable again, she motioned for him to continue. She noted that the Pyro was uncomfortable, shifting uneasily with displeasure at being cut short from possible freedom to retreat to his bed. It just then occurred to her that he might have some ill-feelings for the day’s loss for his team.

“You don’t hide your face,” he stated.

She blinked at him. She knew where this was going, but pretended not to, “That is not a question.”

“You don’t act like a regular Spy,” he noted, “Not that I should be judgmental of that. But in the end, you’re kind of hinting at your coworkers that you’re not a Spy.”

“On the contrary,” she gave a light-hearted but apathetic laugh, “I am a Spy. I’m an actress. I have been an actress since I was very little. The two are more similar than you would think, with Spies taking it to a new level.” She smirked as she thought over the time spent flirting with the French Spy, trying to either get under his skin or throw him off the hunt. “Even you didn’t expect that it would be me, did you?”

He shook his head slowly, almost looking ashamed at that thought. He turned his gaze to the table, like the Pyro did. But his attention was indirectly on her.

“But do you think that’s very wise?” he asked.

“The way I act is not a crime,” she told him, “It’s a gift, a gift of feigned naivety, the way Adaliz pretends to be American, but better.”

“That kid’s not pretending at nothing,” the man gave a low harrumph, “She just likes to use what she thinks is fun English.”

“In the end, so long as they underestimate me as a Spy, and do not expect my ability to go beyond, they’ll never realize,” she explained.

“But what about with the other Spies and stuff?” he asked, uncertainly, “I mean, we’ve all seen your face. Enemies see your face. The whole world sees your face. If you’re a real Spy then-”

She waved him to silence with a gentle gesture of her hand. She took a moment to revel in that feeling. It had taken a lot of work with these men, flirting with them and toying with their thoughts about how she would be and how she must be, to gain that control. Normal men would not be so easily controlled, but this man was completely unaware that this command was barely a twitch.

“My face has nothing to do with it,” she stated simply.

He shook his head, “But the other Spies-”

“Most other Spies are from a different era,” she told him firmly, “Yours is what? Forty-nine years at this job? Nobody who ever knew him as a Spy back then would recognize him now. And nobody would think he would be alive. And the balaclava is a look that audiences love.”

He nodded slowly in agreement, mumbling about the audiences. He probably did not actually know about the audiences that they pulled in.

“Sure twenty or thirty years ago, those Spies were in danger,” she shrugged, “Everybody here was. But now that’s long gone. I believe my Sofia is in more danger than any of you, given she’s only been on this job for five years. But the same could be said for many of the others.”

She sighed, wishing she could pull out a cigarette. They had already agreed that creating more smoke in the room would be degrading to their health and make this more torturous. Plus, the Pyro was wishing he could get his hands on a lighter and make some bigger flames.

“In the end, what the people see and what actually is are two different things,” she chuckled at the thought, “Fake blood, they say! Foam and plastic weapons, they claim! They really do let their eyes fool them when it is most needed.”

The Engineer gave a heavy sigh, “Get to the point. Why do you not wear a balaclava?”

She gave him a look of feigned confusion and hurt, “My Engineer! I just told you! Their eyes! They fool themselves!”

“But the Spies, the other Spies, they now know your face,” he said sternly.

She shrugged it off, “It won’t matter. Mask or none, I am fairly recognizable, being a blonde woman and all. In five years’ time, even you won’t recognize my face.”

He peered at her. She could see the muscles of his face moving around the goggles as he squinted. He was more than a little skeptical of that claim.

“We don’t age so long as we have respawn,” he argued.

“Yes,” she giggled, “But I have my ways with things.”

She paused to pull her fingers through her long blonde hair. They almost caught at the dying curls at the tips. She sighed at the feeling, loving that she could grow her hair out to whatever length she desired. Under a full balaclava, it was itchy, hot and inconvenient, so she had had to wear a pixie cut back then.

“Did you know that my team thinks that I’m dead?” she asked, with a slight giggle.

“You’re dead?” he hesitated, confusion ready on his face, “Why would they think you’re dead?”

“Well, not Nonna!” she laughed again, putting a bit of mirth into the sound, “But…the Spy who joined them twenty-three years ago.”

“No kidding,” she detected a hint of eye rolling beneath those goggles.

“Why?” the Pyro interrupted.

She turned to the pale man with thoughtful eyes. He was studying hear, looking over the part of her body he could see. It was not a lustful kind of way, just a curious thoughtful way, as if looking at a corpse he wanted to poke with a stick.

“Well, when one fakes their death, they should go all out, shouldn’t they?” she offered with a giggle, “Only natural part of me now, not that they would have known that Spy’s color, is my hair.”

The Engineer was silent for a few moments before he spoke, “Beg your pardon?”

“Surgery?” the Pyro asked.

She nodded to him, giving him a knowing smirk with half lidded eyes, “My nose, my forehead, even my rump has a different shape! All thanks to modern cosmetics. Of course, only the highest of experts to work on it, else it would have come out looking too fake. But it only fools the Medic for so long.”

She started laughing at that. She could remember when the Medic first realized she had gotten plastic surgery. Dr. Ashlynn did not put the digits together, but they had realized that she was a high maintenance woman and had drawn the conclusion there. There was no reason for them not to.

The only reason the doctor had realized this was because of up close and personal medical appointments. They had had to see each other up close and personal. At first the Medic got ideas for ways of controlling Nonna, giving them the upper hand in discipline and control the way they controlled others. So she had to implement her own manufactured tactics by seeing how the Medic behaved in close quarters.

The others eventually found out, but not until much later. It was years before the Engineer realized that her nose was not quite natural. Then she went and told Adaliz, who told everybody else. Now everybody knew she was not exactly the woman she was born to be. Still, it was the woman she was made to be.

The Engineer gave a low whistle, “You wore a balaclava once though?”

“Yes,” she nodded, “I was the supposed fem French Spy of the team, that nobody really suspected otherwise. Then I got this little gig as the representative of the female RED team for the Administrator. Of course now there are a couple of other female RED teams out there but whatever. I liked the part wherein it was decided that having a Russian Spy who looked like a famous actress would bring in a larger audience.”

“How does that work?” he asked.

“Russians want to see Russians, of course!” she laughed, “Don’t you pay attention?”

“I suppose that makes sense,” he admitted.

She looked back over at the Pyro, but he was done looking at her. He was not impressed with her or anything. He just had this haggard look about him.

“I wanted to ask you about something else, but it’s not about you or this,” the Engineer said, waving at the list dismissively.

“Go on,” she waved for him to continue. She heard the Pyro huff a little exasperated sigh.

“The Engineer wants to launch a satellite,” he stated.

“A satellite?” she flinched with surprise. She had not heard about this nor had she found this in any of Shelly’s plans.

She felt a bit taken aback and that made her panic. She did not like being kept out of the loop. She did not like not knowing about what her teammates plans were, for it was her job to keep track of them and what they were doing. It was up to her to keep things in order.

The Engineer nodded, “She wants to launch it and start up our own…what was it called? Internet?”

Nonna caught her breath. So the Engineer was feeling tech savvy and missing the freedom of the outside world. That would require some sabotaging.

“What about this?” she put on a relaxed and dismissive expression.

“What’s internet?” he asked.

“It’s the very thing we do not want the team to have,” she told him.

“Cat memes,” the Pyro suddenly giggled.

She quirked an eyebrow at him, before nodding slowly, “Yes, lots of cat memes.”

“So what does it do? I think I heard about it before once, but I haven’t found anything in any manuals,” the Engineer explained, scratching at the back of his head.

“It is a network that connects peoples’ computers from all over the world,” she explained, “It is where we are broadcasted the most. It is where people talk about us. It is where people go to find out more information about us. It is where the networks put the most information about all of this, and that is exactly the reason that you must sabotage that satellite.”

He shrugged, “I could just…not…”

“No, knowing Shelly,” she paused, glancing between the two men, “She can do things. And when she puts her mind to it, she’ll do it. So I’ll be there to make sure it is not going to go well. That is my job after all.” She felt that grating itch to grab a cigarette and smoke.

“So…um…” he hesitated, his face turning a bit red. He looked more ashamed of himself now. “I’ll keep her from launching it.”

“No let her launch it,” she told him firmly.

“What now?” his head spun when he looked up at her.

“When Shelly launches it into space only to find that she has failed, she will try a second time, and then a third time. And when she is done, she will quit and decide that she has failed in some way from within herself.”

“That’s low down dirty!” he growled with disdain.

She eyed him, “Yes, but she will not launch another satellite.”

The man hunched under this weight placed upon his shoulders. He did not like the idea of hurting his new friend, even if he was already being manipulative and underhanded with her. Nonna read his expression and prepared her own plan, just to be sure that things did not get fucked up in the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I am planning on answering questions in the future chapters. Obviously not all at once. I just feel that this chapter might be the one that brings up more questions than any previous chapter.


	13. Meet the Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy is just trying to be a Spy, but there are some distractions along the way.

What a situation Spy had gotten himself into. One moment he was doing his job, following the curious Spy who snuck from the socializing like she was suddenly disinterested in the games she played. In the next moment, before he could find out where she was going, he was being whisked away by a young excitable French girl who eagerly tugged on his arm and held a bottle of a sparkly fruity drink in the other.

“Let go of me,” he scorned the girl. Nothing seemed to deter her though.

She brought him right back into the recreational room, where drinks were being passed around. Adaliz was slurring her words, barely keeping herself together. He was not even sure she even had much to drink as of yet. Still, she tried to convey that she wanted him to join them for a game of poker. Apparently she had forgotten about the last time’s proposal made by several of the other men in the room.

“No,” he managed to yank his arm away.

“Spy please!” she spun around, liquid flying from the mouth of her bottle.

He exclaimed loudly in response, as the drink spattered on his suit. He tried to wipe it away, but he already knew that it was not coming out. He gave up on the new stain, turning to the girl trying to drag him towards the table they were setting up.

“Not now!” he pushed her away, finally releasing himself from her grip.

“Do you not play poker?” a familiar American voice caught his attention.

He whipped around to meet the Medic’s eyes, meeting her gaze over the rigid rims of her glasses. Her eyebrows raised as she took in his gaze, giving him the impression that she was not the patient type.

He raised a hand to gesture to the alcohol spilled on his suit, “I have a new stain to clean from my suit. Perhaps another time.”

His insistence was met with a switch of the eyebrows, from both raised to one raised. She had dramatic lines in her forehead from the movement. Perhaps it seemed that way because most of her expression was fairly apathetic when her brow moved giving the impression of over-expressiveness.

“Seems a petty reason to skip out on team bonding,” she motioned to the table his back was now facing. He glanced over his shoulder at the people seating themselves for a game. “I don’t enjoy cards myself, but I am more than ready to make a point of this team bonding if we’re going to upgrade the team,” she added.

His head whipped back around to look at her. Most of his team had been bleakly unaware of why these women were here, leaving them to believing they needed to lead the way in battle and show them up. But, Spy had known all along, had he not? So when he had finally brought up that the team needed an upgrade, she saw it as an opportunity to start helping improve his team.

He bowed slightly, moving a foot back so that his body pivoted, motioning for her to pass, “Then by all means, Mademoiselle Medic, I will join you.” He gave her the most charming smile he could manage, not wanting to disappoint.

He took the seat between her and the female Heavy. The giant of a woman beside him sidled to the side, as if cringing away from him. It was like she saw a spider and wanted to stay far away from it.

She was not necessarily big in the way that the Russian man was big. She was mostly leg, thick heavy legs that were probably the asset that helped her most with carrying all of the weight into battle. Her arms were thick and sinewy, giving her defining lines more apt to the most masculine of fighters. The rest of her body was relatively slim, with a thick body type that allowed her to amass the muscle she needed on her upper body for hefting bodies and miniguns.

The Medic on his other side was a large contrast. She was not a slim woman nor particularly heavy set. She stood at about average height for American women, but amidst the majority of mercenaries she was short. If he gave his best guess, he thought she might say around a hundred and sixty centimeters tall if he asked. Despite being American, she had this well rounded and traveled air about her, aware of both the diversity of her team and the influence she had as the American.

“What’s your game?” the Jamaican woman spoke up, with a hoarse laugh. She sounded quite tired from the day’s events. “Black Jack? Hold ‘em? Seven card stud? Craps?”

“How would we play craps?” the French girl spat the most obnoxious laugh, “There is no crabs table!”

The Demo shrugged, “You never know.”

The Scotsman shook his head, “Got no craps table. And if we did, it’d be destroyed by now.”

Spy took in the table’s occupants. He studied each of them thoughtfully, working out of instinctual habit. He already knew the other Spy would not be there, but he was surprised to see that the Engineer was not there. Poker was something he was very good at, even if he did have a big stupid grin. The old Texan could make anybody think he was bluffing or that he had a great hand just by putting on his biggest uncanniest grin.

This was highly suspicious of the old Texan. The man was social with other mercenaries, and was especially up for a game of poker any evening. His absence had to be noted by a couple of other people as well, as the Pyro had wandered away from the table, as if to search for him.

“Pyro? Aren’t you going to join us?” the Russian Heavy called after the still-suited creature.

The Pyro gave no response. They just headed off on their curious way. It made Spy irritably jealous that they allowed them to get up and leave but dragged him into this social occasion.

“All the same,” Scout shrugged, “Not seeing his face makes it hard to read if he’s got a bluff or a hand…or what he’s even saying.”

There were a couple of chuckles at that. Spy was the only one wondering if they were perhaps going to look for the Engineer. Nobody seemed to care about the Pyro leaving though, so they dropped the topic fairly quickly.

Spy took a deep breath as he realized what he needed to do. He had to get out of this card game, even if he would enjoy it. It would be nice to socialize with the new teammates, but still-

He was nothing if not cunning. And when it came to a job, a job that required him to be ready for espionage at any given moment, he had to focus on his duties above all else. He would not lose track of a piece of information walking out the back door, while the Pyro could easily trot off on their own way.

So, as the cards began to pass around the table, he quickly began laying the seeds of doubt and misunderstanding. It had been decades since he used dialects and accents to play teammates against each other, but now there were new players at the table. The new teammates made it easier for him to distract such characters as the Demolitions Expert and the thoughtful Heavy Weapons Expert from the fact that he was turning them around on each other.

He was almost surprised that it worked. It was not twenty years ago that he was called out by the two aforementioned people on different occasions, having discovered his pattern of creating trouble for a distraction. Of course, they had not gotten him to admit to his plan of attack, but it had taught him that the team had settled in with each other’s dialect, even the Soldier. Everybody tolerated the American Soldier, but nobody thought that he would ever tolerate them, so it was interesting to note that somewhere along the way, without anybody ever noticing, the man started to tolerate and almost give leeway to those whose English dialects did not match up with his own. That was not to say that he tolerated non-English languages though.

Before the hand had gone on for ten minutes, they were yelling at each other. The petite Demo was yelling, slurring through drunken Jamaican words that may or may not have been English, for all he could tell. Soldier was enraged that he could not understand her, and Spy’s little laid hints turned the little fem Scout up for a fight. The fire of her eyes just blazed as she rose from his subtle insistence to match the man’s roar with her own high pitch shouting. Of course, she was slurring through drunken partially-French English words.

Everything had gone according to plan, and he gave his disgusted look of distaste. The fighting was never something he liked, so whenever they started fighting, with or without Spy’s provocation, he usually liked to leave in silence. At this point, none of them would question or wonder why he was leaving, they would just assume that he was irritated at the fighting.

He did not quite get halfway out of his seat before the Medic beside him leaped from her chair. She did not throw the chair down or anything, though he thought it should have fallen from how quickly she had moved. She immediately snapped into an upright standing position, her back erect and her eyes glowering down her sloping nose.

“Adaliz! That is enough!” she raised her voice, not unlike a Soldier.

Adaliz’s cheeks heated, but she was not going to give up just yet, “This guy is shouting at Lucy! I’m not going to let him talk to her like that! Are you?”

“I will deal with the Soldier later,” the Medic’s voice lowered to something of a commanding growl, “Right now I am dealing with you.”

Spy glanced at the Medic, then at Adaliz. The woman was commanding more than Adaliz’s attention, she had her obedience, as she blushed with what he read as shame. Beyond Adaliz, the others’ attentions were turned to the Medic as well, giving her their attentions like she had them by their noses. He was impressed, jealous of that kind of power, awed, and afraid that he might be losing his chance to escape.

He just needed to get another idiot to get up and roaring. They had to get up and rowdy, enough for him to excuse himself. If the Medic was going to calm them down, then what was the point for him to leave? They would ask a lot of questions.

He quickly scanned the faces at the table. He noted that some of them were sitting with the females of their classes, as if to get to know them better. Some of them seemed to have fit well with each other, such as the Sniper, who seemed quite enthusiastic about the female Sniper. She was not very engrossed with him though, mostly paying attention to what was going on around her, as if wary of the mercenaries she was surrounded by. The tall and lanky Australian was blissfully watching her though, as if blissfully unaware of the going ons in front of him, just enjoying her company. It was strange to see him at this table, given that he normally would not have joined a table of more than two or three other people. He liked cards, but not enough to overstress himself with social affairs.

The Medic had finally seated herself when the Spy gave the Sniper a small nod of acknowledgment, as if to get his attention. He knew it would not though. When the man was engrossed in something, usually something at the wrong end of his rifle, he did not look away from it, patiently engraving the finer details into his mind.

“Sniper,” Spy spoke up, calling the man’s attention.

The man blinked, his sunglasses requiring some moving, after they had slipped down his nose. He paused before he acknowledged the request for his attention, “Yea?”

“You alright? You seem a bit unwell,” he hesitated in his words, putting careful emphasis. Already the cards were being doled out again, to resume with a new hand.

“I’m fine,” the man grumbled, shrinking back in his chair and tightening his arms over his chest. He was more than a bit disgruntled at the attention being brought to him, thinking he had just become one with the shadows in the corner.

“You do seem a bit…off,” the female Sniper tilted her head at him, the cloth over her hair shifting.

“I’m alright! I said I was!” he insisted, his accent slurring his words a bit pointedly, in contrast to his acquaintance’s clear and crisp voice.

The woman definitely had an accent, placed somewhere in the Middle Eastern countries, though Spy was fairly unfamiliar with that area, so he could not be sure of exactly which country. Still, she had a crisp tone that made her words clear when they left her tongue, her accent leaving nothing uncertain to the listener’s mind. Spy made a mental note of picking up some information on the woman’s origins at a later time.

“Are you sure? I know how men get prideful and take things in like they don’t need the help,” she spoke softly, with a kind voice.

“If it is an ailment, I would be more than happy to help,” the Medic next to Spy stated, with a gesture of her gloved hand.

“N-no thank you,” the man stammered.

“There is nothing wrong with asking for help,” the female Sniper insisted.

“I’m fine,” the Sniper lifted a hand in defense, “Really I-” He did not have any reason to stop talking, he just sort of stopped.

Spy was waiting for that to happen. The Sniper had come to his very end. He did not talk much to people, for various reasons. And with so many people talking to him at once, he was not handling it well. It did not help that he was out of practice with talking often with even one person, so trying to handle two women talking to him was making him crack. The moment the Sniper’s foot took the lead out the door, the Spy followed, with the visual intent of checking in on the man.

“Is he going to be okay?” he heard the female Sniper ask.

“I’m sure is okay,” the Heavy’s deep rough voice rang out, “Sniper is tall man, not tall with pride, just not big on socializing.”

The Spy let the voices fall behind him. Now he had a goal in mind and he set about doing that, following with a quiet step so that Sniper would not realize that he was coming so soon. Surely Jules would know that he was coming to see him, he just would not know exactly when that would be – usually after a bit of heckling from the Engineer, or perhaps another round of cards if the hand was good.

He would take care of his colleague when he was good and ready, right now he needed to do his job. He would sneak off and track down this Russian woman while she was off snooping – or doing whatever she thought Spies were supposed to be doing. He mentally kicked himself for the thought, he promised himself that he was not going to underestimate any of these women, but that Spy had gotten under his skin in the most personal way possible.

This was all one big game to her in a way. She toyed with people, both enemies and allies, regardless of their stances. She flaunted all that she was and revealed her true nature without the balaclava’s protection. It warranted very little relief for protection – and that was only protection of identity – but it was better than walking around with eye liner and lipstick to show the enemy just how little about Spy work she knew or even cared about.

He imagined her as a girl gushing about becoming a Spy. Maybe sometime thirty or forty years ago, she was watching some old films about Spy work and thought it was all the glamor. As much as he wished it to be, glamor did not add up to the amount of work, but he would not trade it in for anything.

But that was just the thing. Spying was not just his profession and career, it was his passion and his place in life. He was the Spy, and there was nothing better for him than that. So knowing that she was hired as an equivalent, and might even be in Miss Pauling’s terms be better than he was – he could already guess at the woman’s youthfulness being a strong factor in that – he felt insulted.

A voice behind him harrumphed. He stopped, taken a bit by surprise, but only turned slowly. He blanked his mind’s usual reel of questions, trying to keep himself from being surprised at who had followed him to this point. He was still surprised to see that the Medic had followed him out, though it did not show in his body language.

“I am sorry,” she stated, “I did not mean to offend.”

“Offend?” he quirked an eyebrow at her questioningly.

“Ah…er…” she gestured with her hands. She seemed to move her hands quite a bit when she spoke. “I understand Spies prefer to be alone and keep to themselves,” she stated, “I do not intend to be dismissive or rude by following you out here is all.”

“Not at all,” he insisted, waving his hand dismissively.

“I saw you were going to check on the Sniper, I thought I might help,” she offered, her voice softening and her shoulders relaxing by a centimeter, “In case there might be a medical need.”

“Sniper gets overwhelmed when there is a lot of company,” he insisted, “And that doesn’t have anything to do with the new company, he just gets out of it. I’ll go check on him later.”

“Oh…” she paused, thinking over her next words.

As her head shifted, moving downwards in thought, her glasses slid down her sloping nose. Her index finger moved instinctively to push them right back into place. When she looked back up at him, she had recomposed her face.

She started to speak again, “Do let me know if-”

He hesitated, wondering why she cut off. He briefly glanced around, before he realized that his hand was pulling a cigarette out of the disguise kit. It was an old habit that he could not kick, but he should have thought better, having a better mind at filing away pieces of information, like the pill bottle handed to him by this particular doctor.

“I see,” she nodded slowly, “I see you haven’t kicked the habit.”

“No,” he responded, lighting up the faggot. It left him feeling a little guilty, but he had to keep up the illusion of a man going out for a drag on a stick.

There was relative silence for a half minute. It dragged on a long time, especially with the Spy wishing to sneak off and find that woman. At the same time, he did not want to break the picture he had drawn of himself in the woman’s mind.

“Have the pills helped at all?” she finally asked, “Even just a little bit?”

“Yes,” he lied.

It was not that untrue. He had enjoyed the minty little pieces of sugar she had given to him. They were the worst excuse for placebo pills though.

At the same time, popping a breath freshening little mint into his mouth helped him get through the day by reminding him that he did not have to kick the habit, just back up a bit. He had made a mental effort the past few days to avoid chain smoking. He even successfully went through this particular day, and this was his third – that was a record for him.

“Oh good good,” that relaxed her further. A bit of a smile started to move her tired lips.

“Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked, hoping to get through the conversation a bit more quickly.

“Er…ah…n-no,” she shook her head, “That was all. Just…that question.”

“And the Sniper,” he noted, taking a drag of the faggot.

“Yes, him, right,” she nodded, “Please let me know if he needs medical attention.”

“I will do that, thank you doctor,” he said, as the Medic spun on her heels and marched back inside.

Relieved to be free, Spy left the stick in his lips and threw up his cloak. He kept a dagger ready in hand, just in case he ran into unwanted company. He had no idea what she could be up to, and he was not willing to find out the consequences of coming upon her unprepared.

He followed what he hoped was her trail down into the frontlines grounds. Here it was quiet, aside from the chirping of crickets in the night. The light of the moon and stars lit up the area, reminding him of where the structures existed and where he could best blend in. It was easier to hide in the dark than in the daylight, so he kept to those shadows.

He found the Spy walking back towards base with the Engineer in tow. Both of them looked fairly tired. The woman was pulling her fingers through her hair, absentmindedly. She barely paid heed as the Engineer muttered about something.

Spy quickly pressed his back against a building, as the timer ran out on his cloak. He slipped into the shadows, hiding from view just before the laborer turned his head to look behind him. He was always so paranoid about everything, so of course he would be wary of the possibility of another Spy being around.

“Luck tomorrow,” the Spy said, in a sultry Russian accent. She was pushing it a bit, forcing it to sound a bit sultrier.

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” the Engineer shook his head.

“Then we’re going to have a lot of work before ourselves,” the Spy replied, “You know all that you’re doing right? You got your checklist ready?”

“Ready and set to do what I gotta,” he nodded. He paused to clear his throat and rub his neck.

“What is it, Engineer?” she asked.

“Think it would hurt to make a few changes?” he asked, a touch timidly.

“What? Do you mean to the to do list?” she asked, looking a bit astounded at him.

“Yes that,” he nodded. Spy took note of this, curious as to what the to do list was and what it was for.

“I don’t think small ones would,” she admitted with a shrug, “But Administrator’s orders only. Don’t mess it up.”

“Right,” the Engineer sighed heavily.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part of the series was loosely inspired by some photoshop art that was posted online, featuring some great actors as a wishlist cast for a tv series of TF2.  
> So yea, what if their war was turned into a marketable series that was watched the world over, without any of the mercenaries all around the world knowing about it? Well, aside from the "representative mercenaries" that is.
> 
> The picture: http://uberchain.tumblr.com/post/143476854334/been-a-rough-day-i-needed-to-lift-my-spirits


	14. Panic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy is getting mixed signals about what is really going on with this fem-Spy.  
> Dr. Ash is having a panic attack, and they cannot seem to find relief.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that I have updated tags. A background relationship that I might go into more depth with later in the story (Adaliz/Nonna).

The BLU Pyro spun on his heels suddenly, looking around. Alan imagined the younger man searching frantically with those nervous eyes behind the mask. He reached over to pat the man on the shoulder, freezing inches away when he remembered that the BLU was not as personable as the RED.

“Everything alright?” he offered.

The man’s words were muffled, but the turning of his head to look around said enough. He was not usually this paranoid after their meetings, but Alan imagined that meeting with a new Spy did that to some people.

“Don’t linger,” the Russian woman scorned. Her accent was so thick that it was hard to believe she took on others’ voices so well, and he would not have believed it without seeing it for himself. “We cannot be seen out here,” she pulled out her disguise kit and vanished into thin air, “Not together.”

She left them in silence, though there was no knowing if she actually left. She could have lingered to make sure they moved on. Alan could never tell with Spies.

The Engineer turned partway towards the Pyro and touched his hard hat, “G’night then.”

The Pyro said something muffled, as he headed off towards the BLU base. He wasted no time in toddling off to RED base. He would have to offer up some excuse for missing a night of card games, for which Scout would likely have stories.

He smiled at the thought. The loud mouthed boy was often his scapegoat, his way of throwing the trail by affecting others’ attention. Scout was easy, because his short attention span led away his questions, and his obnoxious behavior drove away the others.

It was Spy he had to worry about. That thought made him frown, knowingly drawing out the lines in his cheeks, as ladies liked to remind him. Shelly had brought it up a few times, noting that the lines looked welcoming when he was smiling.

He shook away thoughts about Shelly. Thinking about her would only bring back his guilt. If he went through with sabotaging her satellites, she would be crushed, at least by the second or third launch. Then she would have lost that metal, sending it up into space, only for it not to work.

Up until this point, it puzzled him as a project. Still he had agreed to help her with it, as it seemed like fun and his own goals with Administrations orders could be aided by this predicament. Being in close quarters with the pretty redhead, with nothing but what they had in common to work on? That sounded like a good time to him – almost like a date even.

When he arrived at the base, he was not surprised to find the RED Pyro looking for him. They gave him a sad little wave, having felt lonely without him around. He was the only person they felt they could communicate with, the only person who understood them. They were not usually too clingy, but like any dog would, they rather missed him when he was not around. It gave him a fuzzy feeling in his heart for the pyromaniac.

 

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Panic, like flames searing through blood and flesh, was the only thing they could feel. Their head was swimming with thoughts as their boots clacked against the concrete floors. They marched with precise movements, carefully calculating each step as it came, so that it seemed that they had somewhere to be.

Ash did not want to be bothered. They did not want anybody to stop them and try to get them to talk. They did not want to talk, lest their shaky hands and scratchy voice gave away their current disposition. They willed their hands to be as still as they could, whilst their arms were swinging, but it only worked so well. Walking was best, since the movement provided some excuse for appearing to be shaking.

Even if they marched all night, they did not think they could wear it down. This panicking feeling in their chest was ripping right at them. It was nothing like fear though, that was something they felt on a daily basis, along with the shredding of their flesh and bones when an enemy Medic got his hands on them. This was something they had not felt in a very long time.

But why they felt this way they did not understand. A mere hint of curiosity should not have blossomed outward like this. Being intrigued never gave the Medic problems, unless it was in the way of somebody striking back at them, lashing about wildly to escape a surgery or attacking them for being a pain.

They came to a halt as they came to their third round of marching up the stairs. They were at the top, glancing down to the door below. They could not remember the last time they felt the need to move so much.

“I-” Ash paused to clear the throat, refusing to let their voice be clouded by that creaky noise, “I will not be seen looking foolish! I am a professional! A mercenary! I destroy whole teams of mercenaries in my wake and carry larger ones off the battlefield for healing!”

Breathing, talking, walking did not help soothe the Medic’s nerves. They had been this way, trying to make themselves move away from the stairs, for quite a few minutes now. And as it was growing later, they could hear women’s voices from the door below. The others would be coming in soon, or at least Shelly and Yukina would, as the latter could not handle drunken madness for long.

Ash moved in a startled way, heading towards their bedroom door. They were too late because Shelly caught a glimpse of their head when she stepped through the door.

“Hey doc! There you are!” the woman called up, “You missed some good hands of poker! Had some laughs too. Heh. You shoulda seen Yuki, she won two rounds!”

They heard the girl jump and squeal beneath the noise muffling suit. She would not dare come out from behind her mask, even in the safety of the upstairs North wing.

“What’s keepin’ ya?” Shelly called, “You didn’t come to check on Yukina. She got real bothered by that.”

“Ho- oh…sorry,” they hesitated, feeling awkward as they forced their voice to be calm and their hands to be still.

“You alright there?” the Engineer called. They could hear the frown in her voice.

“I am fine, Shelly,” they stated in a matter-of-fact tone, “I have simply had things on my mind. If you would excuse me.”

They hurried into their room, locking the door behind them. They pressed their back to it and used the door handle to keep their body from slumping to the ground. It felt like the wave of relief just made more panic rise like bile.

“Why?” they breathed heavily.

This panic had been spurred by the exchange with Spy. No conflict there. No violent outbursts. No crazed gunman or knife wielding psychopath. There was no real threat to their safety, no threat to their coworkers, and no real need to be in a panic. In fact, the man was almost nice to them, in a strange sort of way.

Maybe they were just drawing lines and conclusions. He was not quite so nice, now that they thought about it. He did not smile, not like the Engineer did, giving off only an air of aloofness until he needed to better express himself. He would smoke around people, disregarding their health and safety. He even spent the first hands of poker poking at his coworkers, baiting them, egging them on where it was needed.

It had all been a subtle game. It was the male equivalent of Nonna’s game. Whereas the Russian blonde enjoyed toying with men, the French Spy enjoyed toying with-

They cut off the thought before it could go any further. That did not stop the flush in their cheeks, a hot red that would have given them away to anybody who saw them. They assured themselves that they meant that Nonna was sexual in her play, but the French Spy was deviously playing with their minds.

It was almost as if he wanted them to fight. And when they had taken control of the room, proudly holding their head high with delight in shutting down Adaliz, he had gone and stirred things up by drawing something out of the Sniper. It had not taken much, the Spy seemed to know his colleagues well, all the way down to how much one of them could tolerate.

Still, there was something nice about him. They had to admit that not having their height, their biological sex, their race or their swooped back hair mentioned as being odd or off-putting felt good. He was respectful, and almost seemed to allow his expectations of them to be equal to the German doctor.

They had already had the comments before. One of the mercenaries had pointed out that their hair was oddly ambiguous, leaving them in a middle ground that made them uncomfortable. It was not a manly cut, but it was not suitable for a woman. Then there were the remarks about their size, being remarkably short for a Medical professional, one whose task was not only to heal but to drag large wounded men from the midst of battle. Not to mention their gentlemanly attire, not unlike Sven’s, with a waist coat personally tailored to fit their dimensions, and a red tie around their neck – a standard issue RED tie.

A knock came at the door and the Medic flung it open in instinct. Shelly was trying to question them, working off of her own instinct. They dismissed her questions, muttering something made up so that she would not bother them, making their way back downstairs. They needed to move, and they needed to stay away from the others.

Their feet brought them down into the infirmary. Here they could think in the comfortable smell of their practice. Here they would typically work on paperwork and pet projects.

That was, they could have done that in the infirmary they worked in before. They stepped into Sven’s territory forgetting that it was not their old setup. The man had already covered his desk in papers, as he bent over something, writing away vigorously.

Fiery blue eyes shot up at them, giving them a once over before returning what he was doing. He seemed to double down on his efforts. His body tensed, looking like he might overreact to their entry into the infirmary.

They moved in silence towards the cabinet next to the desk, pretending to retrieve a file. They decided to grab Yukina’s file and give it a once over. That was always a safe considering the girl was their favorite patient in various ways and always required Ash’s undying attention. Returning to old notes to find new diagnosis for unresolved or new behaviors was helpful, but their mind could not focus on it at the moment.

“Is there something I can help you with?” the man in the room interrupted their thoughts.

Ash froze for a moment, eyeing him sideways. They held Yukina’s file open, with only the first page showing. That was when they realized that they had been standing there a while, with just that first page. They had not moved and the man might well have caught onto their behavior.

Panic renewed itself as they flung their mind around possible distractions and lies to divert the man. They did not want to have to deal with the frightful man nor did they want him to figure out their current mental condition.

“No, I am simply going over some old notes from Yukina’s file,” they cleared their throat, trying to get rid of that strained sound coming from it.

“When I said that I did not want to work with you,” he said, pausing to shift his glasses to the bridge of his nose, “I did not mean that you were to feel out of place here. Please, take a seat if you will. There’s no reason to stand awkwardly.”

They paused, glancing at the chair opposite of him. His attention turned back to the paper under his hands. He knitted his brow in an intensely focused manner, bringing out that surgeon expression, the one he wore when he was working on Demyan.

Ash hesitantly took the seat, settling back to continue as they were. They thumbed through the pages, turning to a page that was too riddled with Japanese writing for anybody to figure out what they were doing, if they glanced at it. Chinese characters were helpful in keeping most of the patient files confidential, considering Yukina was the only other mercenary who could read them, and the girl had no interest in reading those files. Add in the in-between writing forms and the whole thing was like a beautiful poem to themselves, a diagnosis written almost in prose.

“I would like to…try and find a middle ground,” the doctor sitting across from them folded his hands suddenly, his pen on the desk.

Ash raised their eyes to look at the man over the rims of their reading glasses, feeling a tad confused and conflicted. In any other – nay in every other – situation, they would have jumped at the chance to hear the start of this conversation. This is exactly the conversation they needed to have with the man in order to make some form of progress, and to see him making a step towards them would make it easier for them to approach him about his shortcomings on and off the battlefield. But this was no ordinary situation, as thoughts about the brief conversation with the Spy still lingered in their mind, and the panic was only becoming renewed with a powerful thrum that matched their heartrate.

“I want to clear up any misunderstandings about all of this,” he explained with a calm and slow voice, “As of yet, we have not had any real…conversations. We’ve only gotten to meet on the battlefield.”

“You want to talk?” panic hit like a giant locomotive. They wished there were locomotives around so they could just run at one, throw themselves in front of it, and die before the Medic or the Spy could realize what was going on.

“I am impressed by your work out on the battlefield,” he explained, with a nod, “But, you’re the doctor, not a war leader.”

This piece got a little out of hand for Ash. They were able to swallow their panic for a while, sitting in silence as the man went on several tangents to explain himself. He had much to say on the topic of being a medical professional verses being a commander in chief. There was just too much to worry about in the medical department to be handling what everybody was doing.

They could have agreed with that. They would have loved to have that responsibility lifted from their shoulders, like an anvil being hefted from their body. But, at the battlefield they were the only one of the team to take the lead, to know every member’s strength and weakness. Ash was the one with the knowhow and capabilities to command them like a commander in chief, even if they were supposed to be focused on healing.

They eventually tuned him out, not really listening anymore. They were more focused on trying to slow the powerful thrum in their chest. That organ was battering at their ribs, hoping for an escape from its cage like a wild animal.

“So, perhaps we should go over protocols for routine, yea?” he asked, bringing their attention back to his lecture.

“Um…hmm?” they gave him a quirked eyebrow in response.

“The protocols, the routine,” he said, with exasperation.

“At-” Ash started to speak when the doors opened and Yukina came skipping inside.

The girl paused to switch on her walkie talkie, “How is Liberty?”

“Liberty?” both Medics asked in unison.

“Bird,” the girl stated.

“The eagle is doing fine,” Sven answered, giving the girl an irritated look, “He is currently resting.”

Ash hesitated, turning their head back. They had forgotten about the doves. Up until this point, they never really looked at them directly, thus barely noticed their presence up in the rafters of the infirmary. They were just always there, like shadows one sees moving in the corner of their eye.

“May I see?” the girl requested, with eagerness shaping her tone.

Sven sighed and rose from his seat, leading the Pyro to the other side of the infirmary. At this point, Ash quickly tucked Yukina’s file away in the cabinet where they had originally found it. Once it was closed and safe, they made a quick getaway out the double doors while the man was distracted with showing the bird to the Pyro.

They let their feet travel quickly. They were almost jogging when they finally left the building and stepped out into the cool crisp air. That was when they spotted Nonna.

At first, they thought that she was surprised to see them, but then she walked straight to them. “I’m glad to have caught you before bed, Medic,” the woman’s sultry voice snagged Ash’s attention, demanding their ever-loving care.

“Why is that?” they asked, pretending to be very interested in what was going on in Nonna’s life. They needed something to distract them, after all.

“Oh I’m having such a terrible time!” the woman gave an exasperated sigh, her shoulders shrugging away a heavy weight.

The Medic surveyed them with disappointment. She was not like any other Spy and while it had not yet gotten her fired, it got her killed quite a bit. She displayed her face openly, she showcased her emotions and her thoughts, and she always tried to captivate an audience. Based on her class, she should not be drawing attention to herself, she should be trying to get away from the attention, slipping away into the shadows to hide her identity.

Of course, Ash had attempted to research Nonna many times before, when they had the chance to get to the internet. There was no trace of the woman, not in face nor in name. She was an enigma to be reckoned with, but on the battlefield seeing her face only made it clearer that she was the RED Spy. If she would get her gold hair under control and her act together – showing less of her emotions – she would have an easier time on the battlefield.

Instead, she liked to let out her feelings for all the world to see. She especially ranted them to the Medic, as if they had the patience and time for her. No matter how they chose to punish or scorn her, she always came back for more, as if she were begging for punishment.

Ash shook the thought from their head, “What is it this time?”

“I feel so abashed,” she sighed dramatically, as she pushed her back up against a post to lean her weight against it, “Everybody on this team calls me a slut or a whore!”

“Well, maybe your behavior needs to straighten out,” they stated in the bluntest and crudest manner they could.

Nonna simply dragged on, “Medic! Of all people! I wouldn’t take you for the one to blame the victim!”

“You are not a victim, you are an attention whore,” the Medic growled with irritation.

“I am a victim of harassment and slander!” the Spy proclaimed.

The Medic sighed again. They were not likely to win this argument one way or another. They would have to just listen to her whine for a while, until she finally let them go off to bed. She did exactly what she tended to do, ranting for a long period of time, with short breaths and moments where she acted out of sorts, as if it were all so much for her to handle, physically and emotionally.

When she finally did end everything, the Spy headed off with a few tears making streaks down her cheeks. Ash could only shake their head, watching the woman leave.

As they looked up at the night sky though, they felt that they were supposed to be doing something. There was some sort of intention that they had had, but they could not remember what it was. They felt that there was a reason they were out here in the night, because this was not something they would normally do.

Normally by now they would have gone back to their room. They would have fussed with Yukina over washing up and getting dressed down for bed. The girl would spend the entire night listening to her favorite songs from when she was a girl, if it was up to her.

Ash was not expecting the sound of decloak, and it sent a chill up their spine. They turned to see the resident Spy appearing from the darkness. He strode confidently across the distance between them, but was aiming for the doorway beyond Ash.

Still, Ash felt quite off about this. They knew the Spy was out here earlier, and perhaps they had just come back from the Sniper’s camper truck, but they could not help feeling instinctually wary about the Spy possibly being an enemy. That was something they always had to be careful of, on and off the battlefield. Spies would pull anything and they got away with it every time.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Spy looked over the Medic thoughtfully. She seemed suddenly alarmed at the sight of him, causing him to slow his stride until he halted. He was almost next to her, looking down at her with a curious expression.

The closer he got, the more redness he could see on those high cheekbones. Piercing blue eyes stared back at him, with suspicion in that alert gaze. She looked ready to pick a fight, and her hand was reaching for a bone saw that was not at her side.

“Relax, doctor,” he spoke calmly, hoping her fears might subside, “I am merely returning from a stroll.”

She relaxed by a hair. She did not seem to let up quiet yet though. She must have thought he was up to something, as her still uncertain voice questioned him, “How was Sniper?”

“I’ve not yet to speak with him,” he admitted, “I’ll get to him when he is ready.”

“I take it he is at least not injured?” she asked him. There was still something very alarmed about her expression.

The Spy dismissed the expression as distrust for Spies, “No. He will be fine. I will go to fix his real problem in a few minutes.”

“Why a few minutes?” her voice sounded nervous this time. He took a note of that for later, not sure what that might be spurred by, if not by distrust of Spies. “Why not go and check on him now?” she offered, “Then if there is some ailment that was overlooked when looking him over after battle, it can be taken care of.”

“I assure you,” he pressed, wishing he could snuff out her questioning like one of his other colleagues, “He is plenty fine. He is simply the…introverted type. He is not prone to socializing. His curiosity got the better of him, and perhaps it is my fault that he retreated.”

Her posture shifted visibly. He studied her thoughtfully, looking over her slightly curious expression. There was something desperate in those eyes, though he could not figure out what. She seemed to be a little pacified, but he could not help but wonder what that look in her eyes was about.

“He will be up and ready to shoot tomorrow,” he added, as if he had been searching for those words in English.

“Alright then,” she hesitated, “I’ll let him have his space.” She glanced down at the ground, a look he had not seen on the medical professional’s face before. It almost seemed a bit submissive, until she looked up at him again. “You and the Sniper are close?” she asked.

He hesitated at the question. The answer was not very simple to procure. As a hidden entity, Spy had no real friends, not even outside of this life, though those would have been dead by now from old age. As an anti-social bushman, the Australian kept to himself and had very little to do with other people. The only reason Spy ever kept him company was that they could respect each other’s privacy and their respective silence. The Spy would bring extra faggots to share, and the Sniper brought extra drinks to share, and then they would sit in near silence, one man cleaning his weapons and the other brushing up on his skills.

“A general idea of friendships does not apply here,” he put it simply, “Of anybody though, I probably know him the best.”

She nodded slowly, taking this in to process. He thought he could see her tongue rolling against the inside of her cheek as she thought over what he had said. Her eyes darted away and back with growing hesitation.

When he ran memories of her conversations with others in his mind, he realized that this was erratic behavior for her. She was normally able to hold a gaze when she held a conversation. She kept a strong voice, in both a commanding sense and in the sense of a gentle parental figure.

“Was there something else?” he asked.

“N-no no,” she shook her head, vigorously. That was when he knew that something was off.

He grew worried, the thoughts of something going on tickling the back of his mind. Firstly, he had seen her follow him out as if she had been on his heels the whole time. Secondly, she was out here again, right around the time that Nonna had returned. She had even stood out here, as if waiting for something. He started to piece that she had been waiting for his return.

“Was it that you were waiting for me?” he asked, with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“What?” her entire body flinched and she gaped at him with disbelief, “No! NO!”

“You protest too much madam,” he faked a chuckle, giving off the air of a jest.

“I am not out here waiting on anybody!” she scorned. Her cheeks were turning red, bringing a prominent color over her high cheekbones and sloping nose. “I needed a bit of air and I came out here for it!” she spat. She lowered her voice, muttering something in some other language. He could not even pick up on it, as the words jumbled together in a strange mumble.

She resigned herself to a disgruntled expression, turning halfway away from him. She even folded her arms over her chest, in an awkward manner. She seemed awkward in this position, as if it was unfamiliar to her shoulders to be pulled this far forward.

He cleared his throat, filing away the information for later. It was late and he needed sleep. His functions would become difficult, if he stayed up much longer. He would watch the Medic more closely from now on, but his current state required that he leave her presence.

“If there is nothing else, doctor…” he started to give her a curt wave.

“Ash,” she interrupted him.

“What was that?” he asked, taken aback.

“Dr. Ash,” she stated, turning her full attention to him, her arms dropping to her sides. She raised one hand, offering it in greeting as if they had never met before. “And while I am thankful for your otherwise respectful behavior on the battlefield, I would appreciate not using female pronouns and such. I rely on “they/them/their” pronouns instead,” she explained in a matter-of-fact tone.

He accepted her hand reluctantly, taking in the added information with forced alertness, “I will do that then.” He accepted the information as it came, and then departed without another word. He did not want to linger any longer, as exhaustion was not an expression he wanted even a colleague to see on his face.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“What? What was I thinking?” Ash muttered to themselves in Japanese. They were rapping their knuckles against the sides of their head as they went over the confrontation in their head again. “I gave him my name?” their voice became a squeak of disbelief.

They had not expected to see the Spy out and about still. Yes, they knew he had gone outside, and possibly went to see the Sniper, but they had not known that he would come this way. Two Spies consecutively was more than the Medic could handle, and with that man being himself…

Ash tromped up the stairs to the north upstairs wing, where they found that Shelly and Yukina were watching television in the main space. They were both dozing off, unable to notice the newcomer or anything else in the world, as their eyes slowly closed. Ash would have enjoyed stopping to admire this scene, but did not have the mindset to take in the Pyro leaning her black braid against Shelly’s chest like a pillow, while Shelly gently pet the girl’s head affectionately.

No, Ash tromped right into their room and locked it behind them. They had gone out to get air and think, but they had trapped themselves outside with that Spy. Nonna was one thing. BLU Spy was one thing. But that RED Spy was something else entirely and they did not understand why.

They grabbed a pillow off of the standard issue bed and slapped it against their face. They held it there, taking a deep forced breath before letting it out in a fierce scream. Satisfied at letting out the pent up energy in a safe manner, they let the pillow drop onto the bed with a tired sigh.

“First the German…now the Frenchman,” Ash groaned, rubbing their forehead tiredly, “I legitimately cannot handle this.” The thought of such failure caused them to crumple to their knees with the shaky weakness of a sob.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am thinking about making this a series, using the concept of there being multiple teams (there would be other teams used). I am also thinking about a prequel to this. Any thoughts on that?


	15. Surprise for RED Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After last night, Dr. Ash is a little on edge and uses hasty tactics. This does not bode well for RED team as they find themselves against a new set of adversaries.

Lined up in the respawn room, the team was ready and amped for the day’s events. They all had their weapons at hand and most of them were bouncing on their heels. To Ash’s surprise, even Nyaga seemed a bit amped, copying the Russian Heavy’s fervent smile and impatient bouncing.

“Mission begins in thirty seconds,” the Administrator announced.

Adaliz turned to Ash, with that crooked smile, “You ready doc? We’ll rip them a new one!”

Ash nodded slightly, trying not to appear out of place in any manner. They needed to keep their entire body disciplined as it normally would look. But everything within them was feeling out of sorts. It was not the same feelings as before, it was just thoughts about it all.

“You and me, Adaliz?” Nonna asked the Scout, coyly.

“I’m the speed and you’re the stealth,” the girl smirked up at the Russian blonde. She seemed almost delighted in being teamed up with the female Spy.

“As always,” Nonna nodded slowly.

Adaliz’s smile seemed to grow bigger, turning her attention back to the gates. She was bouncing with utmost impatience. If she could, she probably would have been trying to jump higher than the two Heavys’ heads, in an attempt to show just how eager she was for the fight.

The Medic had hastily appointed them to their positions. Tanner would follow Adaliz in with Nonna. The male Spy would take to the perimeter, back stabbing anybody who came in to defend the intelligence. The Engineers were already set to defend the fortress with both Soldiers, both which apparently shared the name John.

That was the biggest surprise to Ash. They figured calling one by Soldier and the one they knew better by John would have made things simpler. But it seemed that John Smith’s counterpart was named John Doe. They settled for the last names in lieu of confusion.

The Medics were going to be pocketing the Demos and the Heavys out on the frontlines, keeping as many defenders outside of the BLU base as possible. The others would find their niches between defense and offense as needed. They did not need to remind Pyro of this, as Yukina was already the type to dart about wildly. She was not very good at following plans, completely undisciplined despite her years with Dr. Ash.

“Mission begins in ten seconds,” the Administrator announced.

“Okay we get it! Start already!” Adaliz belted out.

“That’s not gonna work,” Tanner chuckled.

Adaliz threw her head back and laughed, “Yea, I know. But it would really help if she just got to the damn point!”

“Adaliz,” Nonna placed a hand on the girl’s shoulder, “Patience.”

“Right,” Adaliz sighed with annoyance.

“Three…two…one…begin!” the Administrator announced and the gates flung open.

Tanner took the lead with Adaliz on his heels. Nonna vanished, hoping she could keep up with them by not getting shot on sight. The other Spy hesitated though, waiting as the Heavys and Medics charged forward.

Ash caught his hand in the corner of their eye and turned to face him before he could touch their shoulder. They blinked up at him, feeling like a coward as they took a half step back. They could not help but feel a residual inkling of panic from the night before rising up inside of them.

“Medic!” Nyaga called to them, hoping they would follow.

“One moment!” Ash spat.

“You and I need to talk,” he told them, firmly.

They opened their mouth to speak but he raised a hand to silence them. They were bewildered by his choice of timing. Whatever he had to talk about was even more confounding, as they could not pinpoint anything he might want to talk to them about. Unless, perhaps he wanted a health check with a doctor who was not big and intimidating like Sven.

“Later,” he added, before he put on a disguise of Tanner.

They watched him go, before they went out to join Nyaga. The taller woman took the lead, charging forward with an amazing amount of speed. Ash had to focus on pushing their stride to a longer pace in order to keep up with her.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Spy made his way into the BLU base. It seemed desolate, aside from his teammates’ yelling. They were all huffed up and running around like idiots. From what he could figure out, they were trying to figure out where the intelligence was.

Not that it mattered too much to him. He intended to stick to the Medic’s plans. There was no reason not to believe she – no they – could not manage a simple plan, after showing so many times that their planning worked. He was counting on the payoff, as he backstabbed the BLU Demoman coming from the direction of spawn. With him on the perimeter, he could keep reinforcements from coming in for the most part, while the others fetched the intelligence they were tasked with retrieving.

Of course, he soon realized that a Spy can only do so much, as the BLU Soldier and BLU Scout came in with their Pyro. The Pyro lit up the hallway with flames, checking for the Spy. All the while, he had to run to his teammates to warn them.

When he reached the intelligence area, lit up with obvious signs, he was surprised to find no blue colored brief case. Both of the Scouts were searching around, looking under tables and chairs, turning over everything. They could not find it anywhere.

“We’re about to be overrun,” he told them.

“Fucking great!” the girl flung a chair across the room.

“This is not the end of the world,” Nonna said, in a calm voice.

“It will be if we’re overrun, let’s move!” Tanner barked, practically bouncing off of his heels.

Tanner led the way through the halls, choking up on his shot gun. The Spies tried to keep up with the Scouts, as they heard voices coming their way. It was difficult to keep up with the sprinters though, as they hurried out the back of the base.

The Scouts were the first to find that this was a mistake. Right out the back of the base was the enemy’s Heavy waiting for them. With a big smile on his face, he started up his weapon and mowed them down with a delighted laugh.

Spy barely avoided the barrage of death, dodging to the side of the doorway. He did not fully avoid the bullets, as one skirted through his jacket, burning into his side, just below his rib. He hissed in pain but put up a cloak before the BLU Heavy could come find him.

He darted off to find shelter in the shadows, while the BLU members came hunting for him. Seeing as his body had not fallen, the Heavy was aware that he did not die, and he made the other BLUs very much aware of his presence. He slinked around, searching for an out from the base, while the BLUs came looking.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Dammit,” the Engineer muttered with irritation. He chewed on his inner lip, wishing he had something better to chew on like a piece of grass or tobacco.

His sentries had all been sapped due to a lack of foresight. He had nested in one area, but placed another sentry up by a point, in hopes that it might prevent BLU team from capturing it. He was not successful in his efforts though, and he was left with hunks of metal to pack up and move.

“Alan! What is this?” Shelly came toddling around the corner with a box under one arm and a wrench in the other hand.

“Spy sapped my sentry,” he shook his head with disdain.

“How’d you get outta being back stabbed?” she asked, pushing back her helmet to scratch at the front of her red roots.

“Not sure,” he looked around, becoming wary of a lurking Spy.

Shelly shook her head, “We’re all being scattered. Something’s not right. Our formations are usually tight and the plans work out well. It’s as if they knew where we would be.”

“But we ain’t never done it this way before,” he insisted.

“I know! That’s what is so strange about it!” she threw her hands up in exasperation, the box clunking to the ground loudly.

“Too much time to give up though,” Alan chuckled.

“Let’s give ‘em hell then!” Shelly said, enthusiastically.

“That’s the spirit!” he followed alongside her, as the trudged up a slope, making their way to an abandoned building where they could perch some sentries. With the added Engineer around, he could worry less about sappers on his sentries.

He was halfway through setting up a dispenser when Shelly caught his attention. Her mouth was hanging open with bewilderment. She was staring at something below, unable to speak or even turn to him.

“What is it?” he asked, following her gaze.

She was looking down upon what appeared to be a near carbon copy of the female Medic, a woman well into her forties with the same type of glasses, but shoulder length hair and a BLU attire. Shelly stared down at the woman in shock as the BLU healed the BLU Scout from his injuries.

“Uhh…” he went silent as the shock hit him. BLU Pyro had said that they were not getting the new team for a few days, so it barely occurred to him that this was a new BLU teammate.

“What the fuck is she doing here?” Shelly growled.

“Who is she?” Alan asked.

“Medic,” she growled, “She was up there in the mountains with us. Fucking witch with a saw.”

“So if there is a new BLU Medic,” he quickly put everything together verbally, “then there is a whole new set, isn’t there?”

She nodded slowly, “Sounds like what BLU would pull if RED brought us down here.”

“Dagnabbit!” Alan barked. He was angrier about the misinformation than anything else.

Surely Spy had seen this coming. One of the Spies had to have sniffed this out at some point. There was no point in having a Spy if they could not find out this secret information. None of this was even shown in the intelligence either. He would just have to sit down and have a little chat with the BLU Pyro, given he had been so forward with his own information about the new RED team.

He felt angry, betrayed and bitter about it all. He wanted to make somebody pay for all of this. He wanted to make somebody hurt for this bitterness he tasted in his mouth.

His thoughts were cut off by harshest kick in the gut he had heard the sultry German accent. He leaned over the railing to get a look at the woman, as she rounded on the RED Scout. The boy did not even see it coming, running right into her saw without even slowing himself down for a chance to double back.

The mad cackling howled up towards the Engineers, before the woman pounded off to find her next victim. She did not even seem half aware of the two of them perched above her. That seemed odd given how loudly he had been pounding at his dispenser earlier.

“That damn witch,” Shelly whispered, irritably.

“I take it you have worked against this team before?” Alan asked, softly.

Shelly nodded sullenly, “They aren’t as efficient as we are. They aren’t even as decent. But they are harsh fighters and they could see this strategy coming a mile away.”

Shelly sighed, her shoulders sinking. All of the excitement was gone from her body. All of the fight was gone from her eyes. That fire had left her as she was left with this disgusting realization that an old enemy had come to fight her on new battle grounds.

“How is that?” Alan asked, “It seemed pretty fool proof.”

“Fool proof to a new team that has not seen it a million times for the past decade,” Shelly retorted, flinging up her arm with frustration, “That witch and her crew have always been out to get our team.”

“It’s the way the whole BLU verses RED works though,” Alan offered. He could tell it did not take the bite out of reality though.

“I know,” Shelly turned to her sentry, leveling it up to second tier power.

Suddenly, the sound of a sapper working behind him caused him to spin around. His dispenser was being attacked by some Spy’s sapper. He made quick work of removing it, careful not to let his guard down, “There’s a Spy around here.”

“Yea,” Shelly sighed, “Likely the blue with the scar on her brow.”

“You remember me then?” a sultry disembodied voice asked. Alan calculated the accent as being from Europe, perhaps Germany.

“Come here, Swede!” Shelly swung her wrench about wildly, “Stop cowering like a dog!”

“You come to me,” the disembodied voice moved to Alan’s other side. He could not be sure if she was throwing her voice though.

“Come here, Fish!” Shelly charged what she thought was the Spy.

The disguised woman appeared, fully dressed in a Spy’s attire. She was even wearing a suit, without the tie though. Her bright green eyes flashed at Alan, before she made a stab at Shelly.

The shorter Irishwoman was prepared for the attack and moved out of the way. She put a big grin across her face as she rounded on the Spy, “You’re predictable, Fish!”

“It’s always nice to see you too, Leprechaun!” the woman snickered before she disappeared again, throwing up a cloak.

Shelly backed towards Alan, motioning to him. She pushed up her goggles, her eyes darting around in search of the specter-like woman.

Alan shook his head, “Ready your sentry, I’ll stand guard.”

She nodded in agreement and set out to do just that, while Alan kept on the lookout with a shotgun in hand.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“What was that noise?” Sven rounded on the Heavy. It made him surprised.

He shrugged his shoulders, motioning towards the slope ahead, “We need to move forward.”

“But I thought I heard-” Sven cut off and his eyes widened as he looked past Demyan towards something else.

Demyan turned his head, and did a double take at seeing a small BLU Medic. She was a grinning creature with light brown hair down to her shoulders, and a thick burly Russian woman next to her. The BLU Medic’s eyes lit up at seeing Sven’s reaction, and her grin widened as her Heavy companion raised the brass beast in her hands.

“Schnell!” Sven exclaimed, as Demyan swung his minigun around to face them.

It took too long to turn the minigun around as the brass beast shot them down without much of a fight. He felt terrible, like he had failed. Sven had been right out in the open too, without his usual meat shield ready. Demyan did not feel any less of a man for being a meat shield, rather he liked that thought. He liked protecting Sven from danger, but failing to do so hurt more than the bullets in his chest.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Yukina looked up from the Spy she had just charred, tilting her head. She recognized that disembodied laughter. It was not a friendly laugh at all. It was nothing she could laugh with either. She despised that laughter and she wanted it to go away, she wanted to burn the body connected to it.

She turned down the fuel on her flame thrower, not wanting to waste too much of it. Shelly had taught her how to be sparing with the fuel. Shelly was too far away for refueling at the moment, so while Spy checking and searching for a cloaked specter, Yukina had to be careful with how much of her fuel she used.

Running out was not that big of a deal. She always kept a spare gun and her axe on her. Never the same gun though. She was never sure why she never ended up with the same gun two days in a row. It was like some fairy was changing things in her locker. Such a clever little fairy. Maybe it was like the troublesome little fairies that Shelly likes to tell tales about in the late evenings.

She followed the chuckling, listening intently for that sound. It was all too familiar, tickling the back of her mind. She was sure that she knew it from somewhere, but could not quite put her thumb on it.

“Surprise!” the voice bellowed, as a sharp pain stabbed into the back of her neck, just above her shoulders.

She gave out an unheard cry as she crumpled to the ground. She could barely move, and her mask made everything difficult to see. She had to wait for the legs to appear – then the body – before she realized that it was the Swedish BLU Spy that they used to fight near five years ago now.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Where is everyone?” Sofia heard the doctor yelling on their earpiece. She winced at the sharpness of the voice, then shook her head.

“What is going on down there?” she heard Julien ask, with a soft voice.

“I don’t know,” she returned her attention to her gun. They had set up in the same nest, taking on two different angles of the battlefield, giving them better vantage over their enemy.

“They’re scattering like ants,” Julien noted.

“The doc is freaking out right now,” Sofia sighed. She paused to turn on her ear piece. “Doctor, I don’t see the other Medic or Heavy. I see Adaliz making her way out from respawn – Tanner is with her.” She carefully shifted her scope, searching the area for BLUs.

“We should have a Spy breathing down our necks by now,” Julien breathed, never taking his eye off of his scope.

Sofia glanced over at him, admiring his confident patience. He was a man of stamina when it came to his work. He could hold an entire conversation without so much as glancing away from his target. He had the steadiest eye of any hitman she knew, and she hoped to learn from him.

She always felt uneasy talking without being able to see the other person. Over a phone or walkie talkie was one thing, but when you could hear the person right behind you, it felt strange not to turn to them. She felt like she needed to engage him in person, even though they were busy with sniping.

“Perhaps he is scared knowing there are two Snipers up here,” she gave him a confident laugh.

“Or, perhaps I’ve been biding my time,” the familiar French voice brought both Snipers away from their scopes. Both of them went straight for their kukris, prepared to put down the abominable Spy. “And it begins,” the disembodied voice said, but nobody appeared.

“What just-” Julien was cut off by the loud crack of a Sniper rifle.

Sofia turned to watch her partner crumple, with both fear and surprise. Her head spun as she searched for the culprit. She saw the man out the window, giving her a wave an d a crooked smile.

She grit her teeth as she went for her gun. She did not have time to react, nor did she even realize that she had been left alone with the Spy. He came right at her back, having been forgotten about, and stabbed her twice between the shoulder blades.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Where is everyone?” Lucy heard the rattling shouts of the Medic over the ear piece.

With a pained wince, she pulled the earpiece away from herself. She did not want to deal with the Medic’s cracking voice. It was not often that they were prone to such high pitches, but when the Medic was panicking, they did not really pay attention.

“What the bloody hell was that about?” Cletis asked, having been able to hear the shouting from a few feet away.

“Not sure,” Lucy hesitantly placed the earpiece back into her earhole, “Doc?”

There was no response for a while. Then, it was Nonna who spoke up, “Lucy…it’s them. They have a team. A whole new team! They have added a second team to the resident team!” She almost sounded like she was blubbering, and that made her Russian accent all the more apparent in her English.

“Relax!” Lucy told her over the earpiece. She turned to the other Demo and the two Soldiers. They had paused upon hearing the shout, thinking that something might have been wrong that they needed to know about.

“Seems they’ve doubled their forces on BLU team,” Lucy told them.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Cletis asked, with bewilderment.

“Are they Nazis?” the American Soldier started asking, “Are they Nazi zombies who have come to my America for me to kick their asses?!”

“Er…um…what?” Lucy looked bewildered.

She did not have a chance to say anything more as a figure rocket jumped overhead. Before any of them could aim something at her, the female Soldier sent three rockets at them. One hit Cletis dead on, another hit Lucy dead on and the other knocked the Soldiers off their feet.

Lucy’s ears rang, rendering them useless. All she could do was watch from where she had landed as the BLU Soldier landed before their RED Soldiers. She strutted towards them, saying something as she aimed a reserve shooter at them.

 

*********************************************************************

 

John looked up the barrel of the reserve shooter, squinting at the familiar face. Wide terrible green eyes gaped back at him with that wild smile. It was the most terrifying thing John had ever seen.

John had been gutted, ambushed, beaten down, shot down, blasted upward, and blown to bits by everything on this planet. But, the way this woman made his heart pound in his chest, and how her very smile could make him feel faint, terrified him.

She was saying her usual line, a motto she always stated when she had an easy kill in front of her. One hand held the gun at him, and the other landed on her hip, as it swayed to the side with an impossibly sexy posture. One day he would like to touch that spot on her hip, though being at war with each other meant he had to shake those feelings off.

A loud screaming to his left told him that the American soldier had survived. The man screamed as he brought a gardening shovel down on the BLU’s head. She stumbled away from him, dazed from the blow, but not totally put off. Her helmet was ringing still when she charged at him, bringing her reserve shooter up to bear. She was too slow though, as the Soldier managed to swing the shovel sideways, cutting at her face with the dull edge. The power behind his swing broke her jaw and sent her sprawling across the roof.

John slowly pulled himself to his feet. He felt numb and useless, worse than he had felt in a long time. It was hard to pull one’s self together after something like that.

“Stay on your feet, maggot!” the American barked in his face.

He simply nodded and followed as they rocketed off of the roof. The American Soldier seemed to hate every non-American on his team, but there seemed to be a soft spot, as the Soldier had gone from yelling at him about not being American to yelling at him to stay alive.

John shook thoughts of the other John out of his head, as they started chasing after a pair of BLUs. The cretins needed to be dealt with now. He could worry about falling in love with yet a another Soldier in this war at a later time.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash looked up from where they had landed, searching for the Heavy, “Nyaga!”

“Heavy’s gone mate,” a chill ran down their spine as they recognized the Australian accent.

They slowly turned on their knees to look up at the hulking women. One was an Australian Demolitions Expert and the other was a Russian Heavy. From behind them appeared the shortest of the lot, the German Medic.

“Hello there!” the German woman taunted gleefully.

Ash slowly got to their feet, watching as they all tauntingly aimed weapons at their head. They had nowhere to go, nowhere to run. If they moved the wrong way, they would lose their head. One way or another, they were going to lose this one.

“I see you’ve kept yourself quite sane all these years!” the woman taunted some more.

“Don’t taunt little doctor,” the Russian woman grunted with disgust, “We have other men to deal with.”

The BLU Medic sighed, “Time runs short, doesn’t it?”

Ash looked up at them with a feeling of despair and confusion, “What are you doing here, Beatrice?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” the woman chuckled, tauntingly, “I’m here to own your ass once again!”

“We’ve seen how that worked out,” Ash retorted.

They accepted their fate, offered up by the Russian Heavy. The match was lost anyways, as they did not gain the intelligence. But judging as how the other team had spent their time picking off RED team, they did not win either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I won't be naming all of these BLUs. I might name one or two, but that's it.
> 
> I have changed the way I am listing this. I have added it to a collection, and given it a little series, since I want to add a few more stories with these characters. I will write with other characters in other stories through the collection.


	16. Low Morale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a severe loss, the team is very low on morale. Ash decides to be the voice that will cheer them up. Alan commits a goof that will be his undoing.

The harsh feeling of a broken down team filled the dining room. Even the Medics joined the team there. Nobody actually wanted to cook anything, though everybody could feel the pains in their guts. There was too much despair in their chests for them to get out of the chairs, after they had plopped down to discuss whose turn it was to cook the main meal.

Ash felt the depression hit hard. They were aloof until they stepped into the room, hit with a wave of their facial expressions and disappointed sighs. It brought them down hard, as they felt the terrible weariness of having let the team down.

Hastily, they had slapped together an old plan that probably would have worked. But for a team that had fought with them for so long, it meant nothing. The BLU team they fought with was scattered, unprepared and undisciplined, but they all knew the RED team’s assortment of battle plans.

Here, Ash had thought they could hurry through the morning ritual of assigning the posts, but all they managed to do was ruin the day for everyone. They did not retrieve any intelligence. They did not get to any points. Most of them did not even get any kills.

They spent the day scattered, unable to regather. Even with the communication devices, either the ring of heavy fire or the shouting in somebody’s ear would divert everything from communication. They were brought to their knees and thoroughly humiliated by the BLU team.

“I did not know about this,” Nonna suddenly broke the silence. Some eyes turned to her, but not everybody had the energy to look at her. “We have already discussed it…but neither of us gathered such intel. We were duped.”

“How do you even fight those?” Tanner asked, with a sound like horrified desperation in his voice.

Cletis sighed, “With the previous resident team, I’d say we haven’t stood a chance.”

Ash tensed at the comment. They felt like the comment had swiped at them, even though nobody had directed any of the conversation towards them. They were standing mostly alone in a corner, not unlike the lanky Sniper nearby. The man had given up his chair for Sofia, who slouched with extreme exhaustion.

“They’re ruthless,” Adaliz sighed. Yukina added something that was muffled beneath her mask.

Ash stepped forward, hoping to command attention from them. They straightened their back and stood as tall as they could manage. They might just be average height for an American woman, but that would not stop them from assuming an air of dominance.

“We are more so!” Ash barked, daring to be scornful with them.

More eyes rose, and a couple of heads slouched on the table lifted, just to look at the speaker. They all looked so haggard and bewildered by the day’s turnout. None of them even responded to the Medic’s words.

“I get the impression you wish to have,” the Spy stepped forward, a waft of smoke fading from his almost-burnt-out cigarette, “And truly, we do respect you. But each one of them is clearly a powerful opponent.”

“We never did win one on one matches, no,” Ash turned their body towards them as they addressed him. They started to walk slowly, moving around the table so that they could get a better look at each mercenary’s face, with only fourteen seats in the room.

They slowly passed the Spy, making their way past the other Medic and Nonna. They took slow steps, letting each boot tap the floor with a loud noise that made muscles deep in their craniums twitch, a reaction mostly unseen but recognizable by scientific study. It was ingrained into them, something from their ancestors, and she used that, as she did with every detail of their ancestral instincts.

“They took advantage of the shock,” Ash finally spoke, rounding the end of the table. There was still silence responding to them. “All that? That was shock and awe. Nothing more. They didn’t win anything. They could not even retrieve a measly briefcase, even after killing most of us at one time.”

Ash let that settle into their ears. They could see their minds working, like cogs in a clock behind the face. They were thinking about this, pondering the reality that was the BLU team’s loss.

Ash stopped when they were opposite the Spies. Nonna looked haggard, with a look that bespoke shame. She never wore that look upon her face, not even when she had something legitimate to be ashamed of. Spy on the other hand, was trying to be aloof while haggard weariness was wearing on the edges of his eyes.

Ash took a deep breath, “They have the shock and awe type of power, this is what we have known of them for years. We know all of their powers, all of their weaknesses, and their greatest flaw…”

They let the words hang for a minute, surveying their audience. There was not much in the way of attention. Everybody was falling back into their dozing. Even the Engineers were both nodding off at the table.

“Tell us,” the Frenchman caught their attention.

They pulled a smile across their lips, forced and small, but it made them realize just how tired they were. All of this low morale was wearisome. All of those looks made them feel even more exhausted. They had to pull their team up though, even if they had to hook each one of them by the nose.

“Their team was disassembled over four years ago,” Ash went on, with a soft chuckle, “Beatrice, while strong and wild, is prone to violence and temper tantrums. Get her angry enough and she cannot think straight. The Heavy is strong but she is very slow, both in mind and body. Her abilities end with her strength and her high pain tolerance. Their Spy is absent minded and clumsy, a Swede with butter fingers-” They were cut off by some chuckling.

They turned to see Adaliz lift her head, a broad smile on her face, “I think everybody got to meet Fish today!”

Ash opened their mouth to scorn her for calling names, but decided against it. They could see some heads lifting and even a couple of smirks. Some of them knew that nickname and they were glad to use it on the clumsiest of Spies.

With another deep breath, Ash continued, “Their Demo is an Australian, a strong woman you would never want to get into a fist fight with. But, get her angry enough and she’ll drop her weapons in lieu of fists, and then you can overwhelm her with speed and weapons. Their Engineer is an American woman from Wisconsin who knows more about cows than robotics. She barely knows how to work a gun, so she is only following rote knowledge with her sentries. Soldier is also American, with a bad attitude and a tendency to forget that she is not bullet proof.”

Nonna threw her head back at that, letting out a laugh. Even Sofia lifted her head from the table to chuckle with Nonna and Adaliz. Shelly was shaking her head though.

“Don’t get me started on their Scout!” Adaliz started talking, “The guy is like a rocket, shoots out of nowhere and then he’s gone again! Like, you can be fast, but that guy isn’t even human. I’m not even sure if it’s a guy or a girl. All we know is that he’s a Chinaman. And when he appears he wants you to see him. But if he disappears again, you’re fucked! Like, this guy can’t even compare to Scouts, he’s a ninja, like a super Spy or something.”

“Thanks for that, Adaliz,” Nonna growled, winning her an apologetic smile from the Scout.

“I’m just saying,” Adaliz offered, “He’s sneakier than any Spy I ever knew!”

“But with a fatal flaw,” the Medic cut in, realizing that they would have to cut this short. They needed to hurry up and make their point so that morale could rise. “The fatal flaw of that team, the very reason they were broken up, is that they are terrible at communication. They are scattered no matter what. And if you plan for that, you can win any match.”

“How exactly do you intend to take out a Demoman who is Australian?” Cletis asked, tilting his head back to gulp down his bottle of booze.

“Simple, get her mad enough to drop her weapons and try to fight with fists,” the Medic explained, resuming their stroll around the table, “Lure her someplace secluded from her teammates and ambush her with at least three mercenaries.”

“What about Fish?” Adaliz asked, “She’s slippery. She’s killed everybody at this table at least once!”

“She did not kill me,” the Medic responded.

“Or me,” Julien added, raising his hand slightly.

The Medic nodded to him in acknowledgment, before turning back to the table, “Lure her out with the promise of an unkempt sentry nest, and ambush her with bombs.”

The Demoman smirked with glee, as he swallowed the last of his drink. Lucy even raised her head as her lips curled up. Both of them liked being included in an attack on a sneaky Spy.

“Send two Scouts on the Heavy to wear her down and anybody could get enough shots on her to take her down before a Medic could reach her in time,” the Medic went on.

“And Beatrice?” Nonna cut in, sharply. She seemed intrigued with the Medic’s trail of thoughts.

“Beatrice?” was the Medic’s immediate response.

“The BLU Medic,” Nonna offered as a reminder.

Ash did not need to be reminded, they remembered who Beatrice was. They had been rivals for so many years that it seemed strange that they were not against each other for nearly four years. What a long time ago that had been.

“Leave Beatrice to me,” the Medic suppressed an eager smirk at the thought of besting their rival.

“With all due respect doc,” Tanner spoke up, “You’re a support class. Not really an attack class.”

“Then I’ll need you around to watch my back when I’m attacking, won’t I?” Ash swallowed that smirk.

Sven stepped forward, “After having seen this…ah…woman, I would be very interested in seeing just how you intend to defeat her.”

Ash straightened their back, wanting to look a bit impressive to match their words, “As I said, Beatrice is prone to temper tantrums that remove her conscious thought. And in the end, BLUs are a scattered mess. Their flaw is that they do not have a team, not like ours.” Finally, they let the smile curl their lips as the last words left their tongue.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The din of quiet was the perfect time to creep up on somebody whose movements were normally quiet. But the Engineer was not a quiet person, so it just made things easier for Nonna to follow the man. It was a surprise that nobody else was following him, given that his sporadic decision to tromp out into the darkness towards the battlefield was done without any form of stealth and was highly suspicious.

She kept a lookout for somebody who might follow him as well. She knew others did not trust her for being a Spy, but she really was on Alan’s side. The man seemed to be fuming, perhaps angry with the day’s turn out. She did not like it either, and would have liked to fume as openly as he did.

As he made his way over the bridge, not even caring about how loud his footsteps were, she was careful. She did not want him to get suspicious about anybody following him. She certainly did not need to be found out, if he was going to hide anything from her.

When he reached the other end, he made a sharp turn and toddled towards an abandoned shack closer to the BLU base. It was not very lively, and looked like it likely housed a nest of bugs. Nonna would rather not go inside this particular shack, having experienced a spider’s trap in there before.

She crouched, waiting for him to close the door. She crept close to the building, leaning towards a small crack in the wall. It would provide her with enough hearing ability to know what was going on in there.

“What the fucking hell?!” she heard the Engineer roar, “You said they weren’t coming for a few days!”

“I misunderstood something Spy said,” the Pyro spoke in a hesitant mutter, his rubber suit whispering as he moved.

“Well that’s a whole lot of misunderstanding to be doing! I’ve been nothin’ but straightforward with you, Bug!” the Engineer smacked his helmet against something with a loud crack.

“I know,” the BLU Pyro responded, in a hesitant and apologetic voice.

“That’s all you got to say for yourself?” the Texan growled angrily.

“I don’t know what else to say,” the Pyro responded, with a twinge of desperation, “I messed up. I’m sorry, Snake.”

“I would think you would be,” the Engineer growled with irritation.

A strange shuffle came from nearby. Nonna looked around curiously, seeing as the sound came from outside of the little building. She was not sure she even heard anything relevant though, so she turned her attention back to the crevice in the shack.

“I have been nothin’ if not up front with you about these things,” the Engineer went on, “And now my team’s try’na put itself back together.”

There was a long silence, aside from the shuffling of clothes. The whispering was agitating as Nonna waited for one of them to speak again. She did not have patience for them right now, as she realized the foolish reason they had not been alerted to the BLU team’s arrival.

“Did you have anything else to say?” the Pyro finally interrupted the silence.

There was a shuffling of feet, as if the Engineer was hesitant, “No…not much else. I am just mad.”

“I’m sorry,” the Pyro’s voice lowered an apologetic whimper.

Nonna’s hackles rose when she heard a familiar hum. At first she thought she must be wrong, but she spun around to find herself looking at a BLU Spy. It was not just any BLU Spy either, it was the Swedish Fish.

“Interesting,” the woman hummed softly, completely unaware of Nonna’s presence, being under cloak.

She glanced at her watch, realizing that she was running out of time with invisibility. She rose carefully to her full height, not wanting to be caught by the enemy Spy. She knew she could beat the woman at being sneaky, but not at hand to hand combat. The woman was butterfingers with a knife, but extremely strong for the Spy class, and capable of breaking necks in unusual ways.

“So it’s the Pyro who has been playing dirty with the RED,” the Swede’s mouth spread slightly in a dirty grin, “I wonder how his coworkers would feel about this. Or…perhaps…”

Nonna felt her hackles rise again as she realized the path of thought the woman was going down. She was not in the know like herself and the two men inside the shack. She was not aware of the consequences of revealing Mann Co Productions to a team that knew nothing about it. This was where Nonna would have to step in and make sure she kept her mouth shut.

But, with her invisibility running out she could not risk it so she hurried to the next abandoned building. She checked around herself for any signs of life before the cloak finally ran out. She glanced out the open door to make sure nobody was coming her way either. There was nobody out there who would really come here, but it was a force of habit anyways.

Now that she thought about it though, nothing of great importance had been revealed in this little meeting. The only thing that Fish knew was that her BLU Pyro was conspiring with the enemy’s Engineer. That was where everything ended, unless the conversation was going further with some mention of Mann Co Productions.

She glanced at her watch, “Come on! Come on! Hurry up!”

By the time it finally charged and she was able to turn it on again, both the Engineer and the Pyro were going their separate ways. She felt a little inkling of panic as she realized that they could have kept on talking about things while she had slipped off to deal with the cloak. Even still, she had no idea where Fish had gone, as the woman had either put up a cloak of her own or had wandered off to BLU base.

She hurried after the Engineer, deciding to confront him alone. She kept her cloak up until he opened his workshop. Just as he opened the door, she dropped the cloak.

The man was immediately alarmed by the sound of the decloak, grabbing the nearest makeshift weapon – which was a two by four piece of wood – to swing it around wildly. She was glad to have kept enough distance, but backed away from him, just in case he stepped into the swing more.

“You? What are you doing here?” he exclaimed, staring up at her with disbelief.

“Wondering what the hell you think you’re doing!” she barked at him, with scorn on her tongue, “Meeting with the BLU Pyro? And out in the open? Have you no notion of subtlety? Is that like an American thing?”

He snorted at her with disgust, “You and I both know that that Pyro damn well knew what was coming. He knew and he didn’t say a damn thing!”

“And going out in the open in the middle of broad daylight?” she pressed, “That was some…big piece of ingenuity?”

“Not my brightest moment, seeing how you came snooping along,” he snarled at her with disgust, “We probably shouldn’t be talking about this here anyways. Shelly might be along.”

“Forget Shelly!” she threw her arms up dramatically, “Fish knows! Fish saw you. And she’s going to tell all she heard to the rest of the BLUs!”

“Who? She- who is Fish?” he stammered, blinking up at her with the most dumbfounded expression.

She shook her head, “BLU Spy you idiot!” She grit her teeth at him, openly showing him how angry she was.

“We didn’t reveal anything crucial,” he argued with frustration, “Trust me, we didn’t say anything that could lead them to conclusions. All she saw was us fraternizing. That’s it!”

“Fine then. I’ll let this pan out then,” she crossed her arms beneath her breasts, casually shifting her weight to one foot so that her hips took on a sassy expression.

“Good. Thank you,” he growled with irritation. He turned to walk into his workshop.

“Just goes to show the Administrator what an idiot she hired,” she added.

He hesitated, turning slowly back to her. She could see the hatred in the furrows around his eyes. She could practically feel the glare coming up at her. He was like a goat that wanted to leap up and hit her with its horns.

“Come again?” he warned in a low tone.

“Just think of what will happen,” she noted, “The BLUs won’t trust their Pyro. Likely the resident Spy will find out about this fraternizing, if one of the BLUs don’t mention it at some point. And then? Who knows…” She hesitated, letting her words sink into his mind. “The Administrator won’t take well to some idiot bumbling about with company secrets,” she told him firmly, “And if it comes down to it…well…we both know that she doesn’t need a motive.”

His mouth had sunken into a deep frown. It was like everything had sunken within his body. He was in a slight state of shock, as the horrific realization of what he had just done came to his mind. Everything was clicking into place behind those goggles.

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” she tucked her watch away in favor of the disguise kit. She paused to switch her disguise to the Swedish Spy, “I have a Spy to meet.”

“Wait just a moment!” he barked at her, before she could put up a cloak.

“Yes?” she raised an eyebrow at him, questioningly.

“You can fraternize but I can’t?” he growled, “I don’t see how I’m the one who’s not getting outta the lion’s den when you’re about to trounce off and-”

She stopped him with a wave of her hand, “I’m going to go deal with a problem…an enemy. It’s certainly not going to be a tender little conversation with apologies.”

He snarled at her, but said nothing more. He turned halfway away from her, giving her the cold shoulder. She took that as her cue and double checked her disguise in her little mirror.

“Adieu,” she breathed before she put up a cloak to make her way towards the BLU base.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Spy let down his cloak once he was out of earshot. He had learned very little this time. Most of what he had seen and heard just reaffirmed some of what he had already found out. Still, there was something missing to all of it. He was still not sure what he was missing, but he was determined to find out.

He glanced out a broken window, but saw nothing. He knew she was going to the BLU base though. She claimed that she was going to meet with their Swedish Spy, but something told him that that was not the case.

She had told the Engineer that she was going to let it all pass. She was going to turn a blind eye to what had happen and let what consequences occurred hit the Engineer. Not that he had any personal relations to the Engineer, or any feelings for his wellbeing at all, but he felt a small pang of anger at somebody who could let such treachery befall a colleague on purpose.

Then again, the man had it coming. He was found fraternizing with the enemy, by the enemy’s Spy. There was no way around any of that.

There was not necessarily something that the Russian could do to change another Spy’s mind. Spies were most leery of each other. They were careful, stepping cautiously around each other’s words, lest they get caught in another’s web. Meanwhile, each one was weaving their own nest of lies.

His curiosity got to him, and the moment his cloak was charged, he put it up. He would go in under invisibility to find out what she planned on doing about all of this. If nothing else, her attempts at associating with the enemy team would give him some added information.


	17. Little Surprises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy gets a little more information about that other RED soldier, which he was not expecting.  
> Yukina finds out a new little secret about her doctor.  
> Demyan thinks on the past and how it is that Sven is HIS doctor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this chapter was slow to write. I had a hectic week. I presented a research thesis in Japanese, I received some awards, graduated and then moved. So I have been busy. Hopefully I will return to a more regular schedule.
> 
> Also, please note that I have updated the archive warnings.

The RED mercenaries lined up at the gate, ready for the day’s events. After a briefing from Dr. Ash, they had become quite pumped for the round. They were going to wipe the field with those BLUs, Dr. Ash had assured them all of that. They just had to stay tight to the plan laid out before them.

Spy was too distracted by his thoughts. After following the Spy, he had found himself more lost than ever. He knew the BLU base inside and out, but when he finally found her, she was saying goodbye to the little Asian fellow on BLU team, a quiet Scout that did not say a word when they parted. Nonna had put up a cloak and disappeared once again, going down into the sewers without hesitation for the nasty smell and dankness of the area.

Troubled, he had followed the Scout through the base. The man did not dawdle much, or even talk to the others on his team. He did not associate with any of the women or any of the resident members of BLU. He just went on his way, pausing briefly to look at people. He never said anything though, he just kept to himself like a shadow. If Spy could gather anything from the man, it was that he was more a Spy-like creature than a spry and athletic Scout.

Spy had to shake himself out of his thoughts when he realized the gates had opened. The others had already taken off without him, leaving him mostly alone, aside from one small redheaded Engineer trying to get her things together. She looked unkempt and tired, with rings under her goggles and her hair tossed around wildly in the ponytail that held her mess of hair back.

“You are not looking your best today, Engineer,” he noted.

The shift of her eyes towards him was dramatic, “I’ll be fine. Just get out and get to the point.”

He nodded to her, but he was concerned. She looked like she had not slept well, a sudden shift from her otherwise positive disposition the day before. He wondered if perhaps she had concerns about the upcoming fight with the new BLU team, with whom she seemed to be acquainted with.

He tried to push the concerns to the back of his mind as he headed off into the battlefield. The thick of it was already under fire, with Soldiers blasting each other around, Demos throwing stickies everywhere and several Heavys filling the air with impassable walls of bullets. It was an impassible mess.

“Fuck,” he muttered to himself, as he searched for an alternate route through the battle. He kept to the shadows and switched between friendly and enemy disguises to keep people guessing.

It was difficult to catalogue a whole new set of faces, names and voices. They all had different attitudes. Some of them were slightly similar to people he already knew, but they were all different from the people he had grown used to. Keeping up with those and the ones he already knew was difficult, especially with more than one of each kind of BLU around. Two Pyros meant twice as much flames to send him back to respawn.

When he arrived at the point, he found that both Soldiers and the small female Demo were trying to fend off the BLUs. They were having a difficult time, having been abandoned by the new dead Demo, two dead Scouts and a dead Pyro. The bodies laid about, completely forgotten in the chaos of the fight, as the three tried to protect themselves without anything to guard against a barrage of ammunition.

He slipped in under the guise of the BLU male Soldier, a man all too predictable in his movements for any of them to second guess him. None of them even questioned the disguise as he moved around and to the back of the group. There were some fighters at the other side, but he needed to kill the most he could. So, he closed in on some fighters he snuck behind and started stabbing.

The BLU teammates were almost unaware of the incidents. He slipped by them, throwing up a cloak as he stabbed: one, two three. He was already moving to get in behind their teammates on the other side, when the deaths were noticed. By the time any of them thought to start Spy checking, he was already stabbing BLU Demo and the female Soldier on BLU team.

Gaining some advantage, his teammates on point started taking down more of the enemy. He was dancing around the bullets and rockets as they came his way, pelting the walls around him. It was a difficult and tiresome job, just trying to get out of harm’s way.

When he was finally around a corner, he let himself take a breather. It was harder work than he was used to. Forty-nine years of fighting against the same nine men had left him a bit weak. He had grown used to them, comfortable with the same nine they fought. He felt ashamed at the thought though.

After all of this time, and all of the effort he had put forward, he was finding that his skills were not up to par. Nothing he had done since this match had started had shown that he had excellence. Rather, now that he thought about it a bit harder, he started to wonder if the Administrator did have him in mind when she thought of this idea to make the RED team stronger.

“I can do better,” he breathed, as he slipped back inside. The point was already capped and RED had the win.

Without hesitation, he hurried off towards the next point. Meanwhile, he could hear the Administrator shouting about stolen RED intelligence. Perhaps that could have been his job, to defend that intelligence, but it was hard to think about that through all of this chaos. Still, he was sure that none of them were fully prepared for this exercise against the new BLU team, even if they had gone over the specs with the Medic and her team.

He saw the scout running at near-full speed. His jet black hair fell backwards as he sprinted for the door to the BLU base. He looked like some kind of majestic animal with how he moved.

He turned to see the Soldiers coming out. The resident soldier was jabbering loudly as he always did, with his counterpart smiling and nodding in silence. Spy paid their conversation no mind, he just grabbed the walkie talkie off of the belt of the quiet one.

He pressed the button and bellowed into the speaker, “BLU Scout is headed for their base with the intelligence!”

“S-spy?” he heard the Medic sputter with surprise, before she finally responded to what he had said, “Roger that. Pyro’s down by BLU base camping their facility. Yuki, you got that?”

“Hai!” the voice of what sounded like a girl came over the talkie, “BLU Soldier ga imasu. Headed to third point.” Spy felt confused by what the girl had said.

“Got it,” the Medic responded, “Shelly, you got third point?”

“Got it!” the Engineer’s Irish brogue came over the talkie, “Alan’s got South, I’ve got the Northeast. Got it covered if you can get the Heavy and Soldier classes here.”

“Right, where’s soldier?” the Medic demanded.

The quiet one stepped forward, his smile a bit smaller now, as he reached for his talkie. The man paused as he pushed the button, and then began speaking in the fastest paced, effeminate English accent Spy had heard in over five decades, “I’m South of you now. We just came off the second point. We’ll come cover you with air support. I’ve got Lucy, Doe and Spy here with me. I’ll bring them along and we’ll be there in short time. Don’t worry about it.”

Spy could only gawk for a minute. The man’s voice was too high pitched for somebody with that brawny and masculine a body. Not to mention the speed at which he spoke for a man who was always so quiet and never spoke a word to anybody, or at least he had not spoken to anybody since he arrived.

Even the American stood and gawked in disbelief. John Doe was completely flabbergasted by the voice he heard coming out of his counterpart’s mouth. Though, Spy was not sure how much thought the man actually put into his astonishment, given he rarely put deep thought into anything.

“Let’s go,” the small Demo came running out, blasting the ground with explosives that would launch her into the air.

“Right!” the American shook himself out of the stupor and launched himself into the air after her.

The British man did not say anything, as he reached a thick arm around the Spy’s waist. Still confused and bewildered, Spy barely had time to say anything before he was launched into the air with him. For a brief minute he was just freefalling in the air, feeling how the Soldiers felt when they launched themselves over the buildings and across the battlefield. But, that only lasted until he ultimately died upon landing, not being sturdy enough to take even a partial brunt of what the Soldier could handle when he landed.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Yukina shuffled as she waited for somebody else to come. There were so many familiar faces, some of whom she had not seen in a long time. It was both terrifying and thrilling. All the same, she did not want to let her teammates down, because doing that would let Dr. Ashlynn down.

She aimed her shotgun as the respawn gate opened again. Out came a slender BLU Spy, who was just putting on a BLU teammate disguise. She fired twice before she fell down screaming. She had not even seen the Pyro standing off to the side, waiting impatiently for BLU teammates to arrive out of respawn.

She heard the Spy speak over the earpiece, a sudden but beautiful break in the otherwise chaotic silence. It was nice to hear him speak, a new voice in her ear. Dr. Ashlynn seemed to take a liking to him, after all. Perhaps he would become her second favorite patient, given that Shelly had been a bit fussy about her leg lately. Yukina never had to worry about first place though – she was forever and always Dr. Ashlynn’s primary and favorite patient.

Even when he was speaking in a rough demand or in frustrated anger, he seemed so calm and deliberate. Everything about him seemed peaceful, even in panicked chaos. It was so nice. It was not like most of the other voices she had to listen to, as her teammates yelled orders at each other.

Suddenly, the BLU Soldier ran out, but Yukina was too distracted by her thoughts to catch him. Her shotgun shells missed, and he was too focused on escaping the spawn camp to turn around and attack. He was on a mission to cap the next point.

It made her giggle to hear Dr. Ashlynn stammer. That was when it clicked, and Yukina nearly burst into delighted tears. Oh what a happy day that the doctor could actually blush and have some emotions beyond the few people who managed to make them happy! It was silly to think that it was on the battlefield that Dr. Ashlynn would actually get caught up with those kinds of feelings, but they would be good feelings after all. She decided to talk about that later as he started to respond to the Medic’s demand.

“Hai! Soldier ga imasu!” she shook herself when she realized she was speaking in Japanese. Most of the people listening to her did not understand Japanese, and they needed to know now. “Headed to third point!”

Proud of herself, she smiled and turned her full attention to the gate to BLU respawn. She was sure that more people would be out after all. Death would await them, but not the kind of death that Dr. Ashlynn refused to fix, but the kind that a beautiful machine like the respawn would fix them up in ten minutes to shoot them out later.

Her mind began to wander though, as she thought about respawn. It took a whole ten minutes for somebody to respawn. It was like clockwork, but it required the entire set time to deliver a fully functional human being. People had complained about the inconvenience of it, but as Shelly always said, there was no place complaining about something that could save a man from death.

But what if everybody died at the same time? She delighted in that idea, pondering on what she would do if both teams suddenly died, leaving her as the only man- or rather woman – standing alone on the battlefield. Sure she would cap the point and collect the intelligence, but there were more fun things she could do in ten minutes that she would not get a chance to do while everybody was around.

She heard the Scout coming from a long way away and headed into the next hallway where he would run through. Of all the things he was good at, being quiet while running fast was never one of them. Sometimes she wished he would just stop so they could talk, then she could tell him why he was so easy to catch. But, even she was aware that he was BLU, she was RED, and that made them enemies.

Then, as the youthful man came running into the hallway, she started up her flame thrower. He slowed, coming to a stop, half crouched as he looked at her with a hateful gaze. They never exchanged words, never got to speak, there was just this unwritten, unspoken hate he had for her. Perhaps if they could sit down and talk, they would find they had things in common, more than just being from Asia.

She heard him growl something in Korean before he spun and ran. She set up the blaze and it burst forth like a powerful cloud. Its magnificent heat chased the Scout, especially as she moved forward with it. She could feel the heat, even through her thick suit, licking and changing into something remarkably alive.

Soon, the Scout was just a charred lump of smoking ash. He smelled like charred poultry, and reminded her of the American dinners Dr. Ashlynn tried to cook all those years ago. She was glad Dr. Ashlynn could cook other things, and especially that Shelly and others could be trusted to cook the American style meals.

She stopped by the charred remains and grabbed the red colored briefcase. It seemed so light in her hand, especially compared to the tools that she had to work with. She wondered if they might have taken stuff out of it, hiding the actual intelligence in a pocket or something. She did not really care though, it was none of her concern, even though it was supposed to be. So she headed back towards the RED base, which was the only one that was named appropriately for the red tinted wood it was built out of.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Demyan chuckled as the last of the BLU team fell to his bullets. He was nearly out and would need to reload before more BLUs came to him. Still, he felt so thrilled as they fought, being able to overwhelm the BLU team today. Yesterday was bad, with so many surprises and so much left unsaid in the intensity and tenseness of the team’s loss.

Today was a good day, all of the sourness of before was gone and they were winning. It almost seemed too easy. Like, how were they even losing in the first place? That seemed outrageous to him now, so he bellowed out a laugh that shook his entire body.

“Good work, my friend!” Sven patted his shoulder heartily.

Nearby, the tall dark Heavy gave him a small wave of acknowledgment. She was a quiet woman, but she used small gestures to communicate a congratulations or a thank you here and there. This time, they had capped the point together, with the support of two Engineers and their beloved- no appreciated Medics.

His heart skipped a beat and he had to shake himself free of his thoughts. A tremor ran through his body as he thought of what could have been thought of him, if he were that careless with his English. At least he was not speaking at the time.

“Shall we?” Sven chuckled, as they listened to the Administrator counting down to their victory. It was a fairly early win for their standards, something that would just add insult to injury on BLU’s loss.

Demyan hesitated, looking to the Medic questioningly. After a few moments, he realized that the Medic was inviting him on a walk back to base, confident in their definite win before the final words came from the speakers. And given that there was no way the enemy team would make a comeback, Demyan nodded and shifted his minigun so that he could enjoy the walk back with Sven.

He could not help but smile as the cheerful smile, the confident step and the proud stance returned to his Medic. The man looked his best after a win. Even if he had his work cut out for him at the end of a match, a win always gave him this cocky expression, one that Demyan could even call handsome.

He shook that thought from his head too, as he tried to listen to what the doctor was saying. He was excitedly explaining some sort of procedure he was working out the details on. His passion was inspiring and made Demyan’s heart skip, even though he did not really know what he was talking about.

It was like this for a little more than forty years now. Dr. Sven Engel had started out as what seemed like a demented scientist with aims to experiment on every single one of his teammates. Demyan had been his prime target, being bigger and sturdier than most, and able to handle levels of pain that most men could not fathom. And so he spent the most time in the doctor’s office, for medical procedures and for reasons Demyan did not even know about. Sometimes he went there willingly to get taken care of, and other times he woke up not knowing where he was or how he got there, only to find that he had been recently stitched up.

Sven had grown on him in a way that others had not. He probably would have tired of this job quickly enough to have moved on something else to make money on. But Sven was the main motivation for being here, for without Sven, who was Demyan?

Demyan was the youngest of a household of women. Having watched his sisters go on to start families, Demyan wanted to contribute to his family in some way. When he moved to America, it seemed best to just send money back home, until they eventually sent enough convincing letters to make him stop and focus on his own path.

He wanted to be there when his mother was sick and passing, but she had told him to stay where he wanted to be. He wanted to visit his sisters when they had new children, but they were convinced that he would never go back to where he felt most at home. He wanted to return to Russia when his nieces and nephews grew up, but none of them knew him well enough to care either way.

Sven was his family now, for as far as he could see. Somedays he hoped that Sven felt the same way. But then he wondered if that would make him seem too much like a brother, and he was not sure he wanted that.

“Are you listening?” Sven interrupted his thoughts.

He nodded without hesitation. “Was trying to remember if I still have a kidney left,” he teased, in reference to something the doctor had been discussing. He had mentioned kidneys in what he was saying.

“You’re fine,” Sven rolled his eyes and waved his hand dismissively, “You have a donor kidney and a baboon kidney.”

“Baboon?” Demyan chuckled and shook his head, “That does not make me any less concerned.”

Sven rolled his eyes again, “Just because it was created in a baboon doesn’t mean it functions any less.”

“Whatever you say,” Demyan chuckled.

Sven was the easiest person for Demyan to talk to. He always wanted to be social, but that was difficult knowing just how awkward his English was. His social skills had gotten worse for it, and now he mostly just talked to Sven. He did not mind that too much, because Sven made speaking in complex English prose seem easy, even when he was speaking in the simplest form of words.

“Heading back to the infirmary, I presume?” both of their heads turned to see the shorter Medic, who pushed the rectangle frame glasses up her sloping nose with a finger, “Mind if I join you?”

“Uh…yes…a little,” Sven said, with discomfort. He was always open about his dislike in others’ company, despite how rude it was.

“Let little doctor come along,” Demyan chuckled, “Is just to infirmary.”

“Might be easier to have two doctors when working on Adaliz,” an unfamiliar voice spoke up.

Demyan gawked at the dark Heavy woman with slight confusion. She rarely ever spoke. She had said one or two words here and there. But hearing an entire string of English come out of her mouth felt bizarre in some strange way.

She noticed that he and the Medic were both staring and she shied away. She was as uncomfortable as he was, uncertain of her English skills. Perhaps she too wanted to socialize, but did not know how to cope with the weakening social skills.

“I’ll work on Adaliz when they get her to the infirmary,” the little Medic sighed, “Sometimes I just wish people could take a bullet.”

“Little Scout is going to be fine, yes?” Demyan asked them.

They looked up at him and the other Medic, who was acting quite irritated. Demyan felt bad now, seeing how Sven wanted to talk to him alone. He barely realized how much Sven had latched onto him as well, even if it was not to the degree that he desired.

“She’ll be fine,” the little Medic assured him, “She’s just…fussy. She doesn’t handle pain very well. I usually require assistance when handling her.”

The other Heavy chuckled, “Like animal.”

The little doctor nodded, “Yes, like an animal.”

“I suppose I could help,” Sven offered his assistance with a reluctant sigh.

The little Medic smiled in response, “We should be finished fairly quickly. It’ll be respectably helpful to us both, I think.”

“Two doctors are better than one,” Demyan nodded in agreement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "BLU Soldier ga imasu" is basic Japanese for "There is a BLU Soldier"


	18. Spy vs Spy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spy goes looking for trouble when he goes to confront Nonna about what she has been up to. Adaliz is a quirky little Scout.

“Enough games,” Spy thought in a low whisper. He was irritated, and needed to get some real answers out of that Spy.

He made his way through the base to the stairs that led up to where the women were staying. He would have to be very quiet when he went through the door and extra careful going up the stairs. Because of the cameras the Administrator was watching and the number of people who would be set against him, he would be in more trouble than he could fathom. He was sure the Administrator was watching him now, wondering what he was up to, heading through the base with the look of a man on a mission.

He checked his watch to make sure it was fully charged. He slipped around a corner and threw on a cloak. He headed back around the corner, certain that he had sufficiently thrown the Administrator off about where he was going. He doubled back and headed off towards the door to the stairway.

He paused at the door, carefully listening for any voices or footfalls. He put a hand on the handle and moved it slowly and carefully. When he was sure he could open it without the latch snapping, he pulled it open. He moved slowly as he slipped through the door, trying to keep the movement of the door as unnoticeable as possible. If he was careful enough, the Administrator would not even notice it on her monitors. If his planned worked out, she was searching frantically on the cameras at the other side of the base, trying to find out where he had gone.

He crept up the stairs, taking it slow on each step. It had been a long time since he had taken these steps. He had to rediscover the pattern of squeaky steps and how to move across them without letting any signs of his presence be known. When he finally reached the top of his tiresome journey, he set about finding the Spy’s location.

Having kept his distance, he never snooped around these teammates’ domain. It was off limits to him anyways, which was why he was sneaking around. Now he had to figure out where to go before the time on his watch ran out.

There were three directions to go immediately from the stairs, left right and forward, each looking the same with no identification or signs as to where anybody was. He decided to use the Administrator’s sense of logic, figuring she might have assigned their rooms according to their class.

He headed straight down the hallway ahead of himself, stepping carefully. One of the doors swung open as the Soldier came stomping out. The man looked a bit grouchy as he stamped past the Spy, but otherwise did not notice the Spy.

This would not be the right hallway, Spy thought. A Spy would not be posted in the room near the Soldier. And as that thought occurred to him, his cloak ran out.

He bit his lip as he turned his attention to the watch. Out of the corner of his eye, the opposite door swung open, moving slowly. He turned and darted back down the hall, looking one way and then the next. He darted off down a random hall, stopping just out of sight to check his watch.

He heard the clunking of boots coming down the hall, moving towards the stairway. He flinched, wishing silently that the watch would hurry. That was when a figure appeared in the corner of his eye, opposite of where he was expecting somebody.

“Hey there!” the Scout greeted him in French, “What are you doing up here?” The girl sounded like she had not spoken French with anybody in years.

“I…” he turned his head, looking to see who was coming.

The girl smirked as she walked around him, moving into sight of whoever was coming, “Hey doc! Think I could get some of those vitamins from you? I kinda ran out.”

“Adaliz! Why didn’t you come to me sooner?” he heard the Medic’s voice coming down the hall. That seemed bizarre to have the Medic of all people posted across the hallway from the Soldier.

“I just kinda forgot,” the girl shrugged, “I’ll be out here waiting.”

The Medic sighed loudly, before thunking back to her room. The Scout immediately turned to him, lips curled into a devilish smile, and her wooden bat slung against her right shoulder. She reminded him of the boy Scout, but with a brunette ponytail and a girlish grin.

“You are about to cause trouble, aren’t you?” he spoke to her in French.

Her smile widened a bit, revealing her teeth, “Weren’t you up to much the same?” She took his hesitation into stride. “I bet you were up here spying on the Medic, weren’t you?”

He took the girl’s presumptuous attitude into stride, “No. I have a meeting with your Spy. But it seems she is trying to be elusive.”

“Oh, so you want to see Nonna?” she chuckled, “Then what were you doing over there? Medic’s ears aren’t in the least easy to fool.”

The door opened again and the Medic came clunking down the hall. Adaliz darted off around the corner to meet the Medic. The two started to chatter, while the Spy was alerted of his watch’s charge. He put up the cloak, waiting quietly as their conversation ended and the Medic headed down the stairs.

Adaliz returned to the hallway and looked around. When she did not see him, she went to the stairs, checking for anybody around. She returned shortly, letting her bat swing at her side freely.

“So Spy, you want to speak to Nonna?” she asked loudly, in French.

He was quiet, moving quietly out of the hallway. He would not stay in the same place where he might be threatened. He would not even trust his colleagues, not when he was crossing the line.

“Nonna?” the girl called out, “Somebody’s here to talk to you!”

She leaned her back against the wall and banged the side of her fist against a door. She lounged there for a while, until the woman she had called for emerged from a room. She had a cigarette between two fingers, with the aroma of smoke lingering on her.

“What is it, Adaliz?” the woman demanded.

The girl smirked, “Your boyfriend was here to meet with you, but he seems too nervous to talk to you.”

“What are you talking about, Adaliz?” Nonna growled with disdain.

“Spy around,” the Scout shrugged.

Spy rolled his eyes and approached the door. Under cloak, the woman did not see him, but as he neared, he regretted his direction as she reached out to grab the Scout. He was not sure what she had intended to do, but her hand hit him, and his figure became apparent by the sudden Spy check.

The woman did not think much before she lashed out again, this time hitting him squarely in the sternum, catching him before he could flee. She took a step out, her other hand reaching out to grab the Scout, pulling her around both of them, shoving her towards the door.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” the woman stepped towards him, sizing him up with her entire height.

Spy was a bit shaken but not completely taken aback. He did step back, putting some distance between himself and the female Spy, who he had never thought could bring forth an actual fighting skill. She always seemed like the type who was all talk and devious mischief, not the kind to get her hands dirty with practice punching and kicking.

“I have some questions,” he said calmly. He kept a relaxed appearance, as if he would not strike back, but he prepared to be attacked again.

“That does not excuse crossing the boundaries!” the woman growled.

“You’ve left me no choice,” he glanced past her at the Scout. The smaller woman looked so confused, glancing between the two of them with a stumped expression.

“I think not,” the female Spy stepped towards him, trying to be threatening. She did not seem to like him looking over at her Scout.

“Wait, you guys aren’t pals?” Scout interrupted, “I mean, you two are both Spies. We’re all on RED team here. What’s the point of freaking out? Medic just went downstairs, so it’s not like we have anything to actually worry about. I mean, other than John. But he went downstairs too. So like, you guys should probably just get along, right?”

“Shut your mouth Adaliz,” the woman’s response to the Scout surprised both of the other two.

“Our line of work requires distrust,” Spy noted, glancing down at the Scout with as much superiority as he could put into his gaze.

“That it does,” the female Spy agreed, finally seeming to calm down a bit.

“But, we’re all REDs,” the Scout insisted, “Just…” The stomping of feet on the stairs caught her attention and she grabbed the back of the female Spy’s clothes.

When the Russian woman stumbled backwards into the room, the smaller French woman darted forward. She reached out quickly, too fast for Spy to avoid. She took him by the lapels of his jacket and pulled him into the Spy’s room. She slammed the door, leaving the two Spies alone inside.

“Adaliz, open the door!” the female Spy shouted, but she did not near the door, wary of the other Spy.

It was more than a little off putting to see the other Spy acting so suspicious of him. That meant that there was some reason for her to be wary. There was something she was hiding, and she knew he would get to it easily, something she did not want others on the RED team to know. And considering her recent outings, he had a feeling that members like the Scout did not even know.

“You’ve been hiding things,” the Spy let his cloak down.

“Is this not our job?” she replied, with snark.

He looked her over carefully. She wore no balaclava, she never did. This exposed her entire face to him, which was worse than a rookie mistake. Did she not think that this would never backfire on her?

“It is our job to look out for our team,” he offered, “And that means not letting one create problems that can hurt the whole lot.”

Her facial expression was mostly neutral, but her cheeks started to flush. He had poked at something, and with no balaclava to hide her cheekbones, he had a hint of what she was thinking. He had gotten to some form of the truth. He was digging at something and she might crack if he found the right tools.

“Yes, and that is what I do,” she nodded in agreement.

“Yet you’re hiding what appears to be treachery,” Spy’s voice deepened in warning. He was very much aware that he was in a dangerous position, being in her territory with only a couple of small knives and a pistol at his disposal.

“Excuse me?” she pitched her voice upwards.

“You know exactly what I mean,” he pressed, “And don’t think you’ve been clever or secretive since you’ve arrived here.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she spoke dismissively.

“But you do,” he kept that tone of warning in his voice, “Those meetings with the Engineer…and the BLU Pyro? Don’t think nobody has seen. And your…BLU counterpart…she has seen as well. Though, I suppose you noticed that too, didn’t you?”

A flash of something flew into her eyes, probably anger. She did not let it flare up though, forcing it down and letting a calm settle across her expression. She even took a casual stance, with her hips shifting to the side in a relaxed posture.

“And you think that gathering information in any place possible is not a part of the Spy role?” she demanded, with a touch of frustration in her tone.

“But of course,” he said, stand-offishly.

“Then it is not usually a problem for a Spy to poke their nose in on a suspicious meeting,” she told him, with an explanatory gesture of her hand, “And involving your team’s Engineer no less.”

“And how, pray tell, did you find out about such a meeting? And how about the meetings after?” he asked.

She glared at him irritably, “That is a confidential source.”

“And yet, you continue to hide more information,” he pressed, “Like your discussion with the BLU Scout…the one that came in recently?”

He could see her face growing hotter with a red undertone. He did not act smugly about it or anything though. He had to be careful with this woman, knowing she was a Spy with her own set of tools to talk around him and get what she wanted.

“What is it that y-” he was cut off as a pair of fists started pounding on the door.

“You’ll find that whatever you’re digging for is not something you’re going to find,” the Russian woman said simply.

“Hey Spy!” the French girl’s voice came from the other side of the door, “Open up!”

Spy did not move from where he was standing, he kept steady in his stance, “You’re hiding something from your team and mine.”

“So is the Engineer…and that’s more out of-” he cut her off with a brusque gesture.

“I’ve already investigated the Engineer,” he bluffed, without hesitation or pause. He had already started his investigation on the Engineer, but he did not need to do as much work to handle the Engineer as he did the Spy. “You’re a bit more interesting,” he stated, circling her.

“Hey Spy! Nonna! I know you’re in there!” Scout pounded at the door, aggressively.

“Not now, Adaliz!” Nonna called out.

Spy narrowed his eyes at her, keeping his gaze from the door. She was very on edge, between the Spy in her room and the Scout at her door. He studied her, keeping her in his gaze so that she could not get away with so much as a frantic twitch.

“And if you continue to hide these meetings from the team, this situation is only going to get worse,” the Spy went on.

“Nonna! Open up!” the Scout continued.

“Go away, Scout!” the woman shrieked at the door.

Spy was silent for a few moments, before he smirked, “You don’t want them to know, do you? Not even precious little Scout can know about what’s going on. Can she?”

Nonna’s lips tightened with anger. He could see it building, and she was losing control. She needed to find the words to get around him, but her brain was becoming addled with frustration. He had her just where he needed her to be for now.

“I won’t say anything,” he told her, cautiously. He moved towards the door with careful steps. He kept an eye on her, but tried to pay attention to where he was headed. “But you will have to end these…meetings.”

“But that’s not-” she cut off as soon as he opened the door, letting the French Scout stumble into the room.

“Hey! What’s going on in here?!” Scout exclaimed.

“Nothing of importance or interest,” the Spy retorted, before the woman could get a word in.

The Scout became preoccupied with the taller woman’s face. She immediately read the situation and her cheeks became red. She glanced between the two Spies, her face losing color as the blood fled from her face. She was not like the Scouts that Spy was used to, she caught on fast.

“I will be watching,” Spy said, as he moved around the door, pulling it with him, “And Engineer won’t be far from my sight either. Don’t think I cannot utilize the cameras to my advantage.”

With that, he closed the door. He strode away, not being hurried or anything. He immediately threw up a cloak though, not wanting to get caught by this team’s Medic or Soldier. He imagined that many of them were not like the Scout, that they were particular about their privacy. Not that the resident Soldier’s sporadic behavior had helped at all.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nonna flung a stray shoe at the door, letting it land against it. She let out a furious growl, her face growing hot with temper. This tantrum would have taken her for a ride, had the shorter woman not stepped forward to cup her cheek.

She looked down at Adaliz with confusion, then with fondness. She could not be mad about much with her little Adaliz around. The French girl’s crooked smile, and sparkling brown eyes always brought her back down to Earth. That Spy barely lingered in her mind anymore.

“Are you okay?” she asked, calmly. She knew how Nonna got when she was in a temper.

“N-no…” she was surprised that her voice nearly broke. She paused to clear her throat, not wanting to continue speaking like she was weak at the knees. “I need…I need some time to think.”

She plopped down on her bed, staring down at her hands, laid upon her knees. She was so stunned that she did not know what to do. She had always been aware that Spy class was dangerous, that was why she had already set a false trail for Fish to follow. But, she had not suspected this Spy at all.

This Spy was too good. He had not shown even a shred of suspicion since they had arrived. He had been eager to meet with the Medic. He showed his subtle interest in the doctor’s kindly attention. He was obvious when he showed concern for teammates’ wellbeing. He was even outright when he expressed displeasure in anyone or anything. But this?

“Adaliz, I need some time to myself,” Nonna raised her head to find the girl right in front of her. She immediately regretted saying anything as the girl backed away.

“Okay, my dear,” Adaliz said, letting her head fall a little forward. She had this cute way of being adorable to Nonna that made her heart leap a little. No woman had ever made her want like that, but perhaps it was that boyish charm with the ball cap over the braid that made it all feel right. “I’ll leave you in peace.”

“Wait,” Nonna sighed with despair creeping up on her. She was caught between time for thought and time for Adaliz.

The girl immediately leaped forward with that crooked smile drawn across her eager face, “Yes, love?”

Nonna groaned as she lifted her hands, not sure what she was actually going for. The girl filled in the gaps by lifting her own hands, intertwining their fingers. She seemed to always be in step with Nonna, always the fast thinker. She was not great with formulating plans, but there were small ideas and she always caught on with what Nonna needed her to think about.

“My guess is that you’re in a mood that’s caught you off the mood?” Adaliz asked, with a bit of worry.

Nonna sighed again, switching to French, “Well, it has not helped that you threw a French Spy into my room. The man is intense as it were.”

“Ah…my fault,” Adaliz admitted with regret, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, love,” Nonna pulled on the girl’s hands, releasing them so she could wrap her arms around the girl’s middle. She was much more fit than Nonna, taking on a muscular form beneath her Scout uniform.

“I don’t like upsetting you, but he seemed like he was up to something important,” she noted, “And Medic was going to spot him.”

“Yes, well, next time…warn me?” Nonna looked up from where her cheek pressed against the girl’s chest. There was not much there to block her vision from that adorable smile she liked.

“Okay love, I’m sorry,” Adaliz nearly squeaked as the arms around her middle suddenly squeezed her.

“I shall have you punish you later,” Nonna said toyingly, “But now I have things to think about.”

“No don’t punish me!” Adaliz joked.

“I’ll have to,” Nonna kept her tone calm and serious, “I cannot tolerate a misbehaving Scout.”

“No!” Adaliz laughed as Nonna pulled her down onto the bed for a cuddle. She tolerated the girl’s kicking and squirming until she settled down. From that point, she could start thinking about what she wanted to do about the Spy, with the comfort of Adaliz next to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is way overdue. Sorry guys, I ended up going to fanime (as the Medic no less) and everything just got thrown out of whack for me.
> 
> This was also a very difficult chapter for me to write. Particular reason? Spies are assholes.


	19. Concern for Counterparts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RED team is having some concern for their...RED counterparts?  
> Sven sees a problem Ash has with BLU Medics.  
> Miss Pauling hands Nonna the plans to shut up the other Spy.  
> Sofia notices that Julien has not been the most sociable guy lately, and that might be a problem.  
> Pyro has a whimsical time making his mental movie, until Yukina brings her new box of goodies for them to draw together.

“I spy with my little eye, some American fraulein about to get sliced by mein axe!” the BLU coated woman taunted loudly.

The BLU Medic’s voice was shrill and annoying. She was easy to spot in a crowd, and definitely easy to pick apart from the male BLU Medic, even if not as different from him as the shorter of the RED Medics.

Sven looked over a railing, rubbing his healing arm. The bruising had already faded and the pain was gone, but the memory of it was still there. He did not even notice the Pyro beckoning to him out of the corner of his eye. He felt a bit distracted by the woman below, bellowing in German half the time, as she called out to her RED counterpart.

She was literally waiting for a RED to just come out and kill her. She had her female Heavy with her, but that was it. Though he was not sure where the two RED Snipers were, as neither of them seemed to be taking aim at the woman. There was not a red dot in sight. The rest of the RED team was off fighting with other BLU teammates.

“Come out! Come out!” the woman laughed, crooning like a witch on the hunt for children.

“Medic is hiding,” the female Medic shifted the weight of her large weapon, “Let us find Soldier and move on.”

“Nein!” the woman barked angrily. She marched off towards a building, in hopes of finding her prey. She did not slow her step or ease up for the woman trying to follow her.

Sven darted past the Pyro before he could make a sound. The little fire starter simply followed, though he was sure they were absolutely confused as to why he was rushing off now. But something irked him about the way that Medic was talking, and he felt something inside of him that urged him to run to the scene.

He rushed through the door he had seen them enter through, his uber saw drawn and ready. The first thing he found was the tall black Heavy strewn across the floor. Her eyes were barely open, her jaw was slack, and blood pooled all around her. Her expression might have fooled him into thinking she was almost alive, if not for how much blood he could see that she had lost.

Then there were the Heavy and the Medic, both dressed in blue uniforms, standing over a RED. Pyro came up beside him, raising his flame thrower without hesitation. They could not fire yet though, not without risking their teammate’s safety. That would have been disastrous, especially with the pain of being burned alive.

The Heavy was the first to turn her head, but the Medic was the first to turn and face him. She had wild hair escaping from what was otherwise a neat and tidy pony tail. Her round framed glasses were skewed, with a crack stretching across one of the lenses. Her clothes had a disheveled look about them, as if she had been grabbed and shaken about wildly.

“Heavy!” the woman barked, shrilly.

The Heavy rolled her eyes as she turned, clearly irritated that her teammate thought she could not see the threat. Her body was slow to move though, forcing all of her weight onto one heel to pivot. It gave both the RED Medic and the RED Pyro plenty of time to jump out of the way before she let loose a barrage of bullets.

When Medic looked back up, Pyro had dropped the flame thrower and pulled out a scorch shot and knocked the bigger woman off her feet. The automatic weapon went sprawling away from her hands as she fell, unable to control its weight in the process. Her Medic panicked, trying to rush the Pyro with a saw.

RED Medic leaped to his feet and bounded forward. He did not need to help Pyro, who easily knocked the Medic down with another blast from the scorch shot. She seemed rather stupid for charging him, rather than fleeing.

He dropped to a knee next to the RED teammate, the other Medic of his team. Their head was hanging forward, glasses fallen upon their hand in their lap, with their blond hair eschew from its usual swish-back appearance. He cupped their face and lifted it to look into their eyes, which seemed glazed over with shock and pain.

“Hello? Medic?” he gave her shoulder a shake with his other hand, “Dr. Ash?”

Suddenly, they seemed to realize where they were and that somebody was in their face. Their eyes blinked once and life sprang into them. Recognition was not completely there, so the moment they saw his face, they leaped to their feet and started flailing. They did not seem to realize that he was the RED team’s resident Medic, so it took Pyro’s assistance to pull them away.

“It is me! It is me!” he insisted, pushing them away from himself.

After a long minute, they blinked at him a few times. They looked him over, squinting uneasily. Pyro quickly dipped down to grab the square framed glasses that had fallen to the floor, placing them gently onto the Medic’s nose.

The Medic quickly composed themselves before Sven. Still, something felt off to him. Something he had just witnessed seemed wrong.

“Many apologies,” they said, with a cough to clear their throat, “I was…blinded…by shock and pain…and lack of my prescriptions.” She gently tapped her spectacles, then turned slightly to bow to the Pyro. “Thank you both.”

The Pyro nodded, then put the scorch shot away so they could pick up their flame thrower again. They hefted the large weapon, calling in a muffled voice for the Medics to follow. When neither of them responded, they just left, assuming they would be along shortly.

Sven cleared his throat, “That…Medic…she was hunting for you.” It was not really a question or anything, more of an observation. Yet, he was still looking for answers.

“We’ve had an…odd enemy-ship,” Ash cleared their throat, as the moment felt a bit awkward to them.

“I see,” he paused, glancing at the bodies of the fallen.

“Enough about Beatrice, let us move on,” the Medic began checking their weapons and medigun.

Sven could not help but stop them, taking them by the elbows, “No…this is about you. Are you alright?”

Ash scrunched their eyebrows at him, “I am fine, doctor. Thank you for the assist. I assure you that I am okay.”

“Good,” he almost stammered, but quickly gained his composure. He released their elbows and straightened his back. “Let us waste no time, we’re falling behind,” he gave them a nod.

They nodded in response, taking up the nozzle of the medigun. The two of them marched off after the Pyro, though the fire starter was long gone. They hurried off to find somebody in need of their help, which they were sure would happen soon.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nonna glanced over her shoulder, and then ducked down out of sight. She quickly cloaked and hurried around the mud. She could not leave footprints behind, lest she attracted attention or worse. If somebody followed her, she would not be able to fix things this time. Everything was going to fall apart.

When she reached the meeting place, under the loud thundering of explosions, she ducked into the shadows. She hid there, cowering and making herself much smaller. She would have to wait until the other arrived, which she was sure would not happen for another hour. Still, now was a better time to be hidden in this place, when others would not come look for her.

It was near the exact mark of two hours of waiting, before Miss Pauling arrived. Panting heavy and barely managing the stealth she was attempting to do, the young-looking woman stumbled into the room and slammed the door behind herself. She peered out of a window, fearing that she might have been seen or followed. Worst case scenario, somebody had spotted her purple jacket on the battlefield, and would come to this area to ask questions.

For that reason, Nonna stayed quiet. She waited, watching the other woman pant heavily. She looked uneasy, waiting for something to happen on the outside. Perhaps now she was looking for the Spy to appear outside.

Upon that thought, she emerged, making herself seen as she let down the cloak. She strode forward, with a loud clacking of tall heeled Italian leathers. Her presence made the woman spin about, gasping with fear, then sighing with relief.

“Nonna it’s you,” she breathed a sigh.

Nonna motioned to one of the cameras in the room. It was another bugged place, so Administration was definitely watching them. This had been Miss Pauling’s choice of meeting anyways, so Nonna felt she had to meet her here, but she did not feel free speaking here. It was likely that Miss Pauling would rather this mess get wrapped up without incident, meaning without anybody up in Administration finding out about it.

“Administration already knows,” Miss Pauling said in a low voice. She sounded quite frightened, her voice too weak to speak above the distant rumble of the war going on.

“Well, we have a containment breach,” she mumbled, “And while I have every intention of cleaning it up, I do not intend to take the bl-”

Miss Pauling raised a hand to silence her. The girl was much bolder with her than with the other Spies. She was certainly much bolder than the girl she remembered meeting when she first started working for Mann Co Productions. It had been a long time since then.

“Everybody knows the risks with Spies,” Miss Pauling stated, “I have known that all too well. But…while I had hoped this…would provide some interesting viewing – and it has done that, by the way – I had hoped that this would have been a better chance for all of you. It seems adding eighteen more to this field has only made things more complicated.”

“Spare me,” it was Nonna’s turn to gesture at her with her hand, dismissively, “I am aware of the risks and the downfalls. All of that is old news. I want to know what Administration intends to do, and what my orders are from here. This could mean that the old orders need to go out the window, especially if the Spy has found these things out.”

“Well…we do have a shot in the dark,” Miss Pauling said nervously. She suddenly looked cowed, like a guilty child who was about to admit to their guilt.

“Oh?” Nonna tilted her head slightly.

“At this time, BLU Scout is taking care of the breach over at the BLU team. We are taking care of BLU Spy’s incident already. She is simple. But…RED Spy,” this time she looked away, with shame on her face.

“Out with it, Miss Pauling,” Nonna pressed, twisting her lip with disgust, “We do not have all day. This battle will eventually end, as the sun draws towards the horizon.”

“Well,” she sighed, “He is one of the most determined Spies we have. One of the best. On his own, I imagine he would match up to any number of Spies that we have on staff. He is the most secretive, so I imagine the viewership is not the best, other than the mystery factor. But…I don’t want to ruin him. I really don’t want to.”

Miss Pauling pulled some papers out of a briefcase she had brought with her. She looked at these papers in her hands, with shame and pain in her face. Tears were even drawing into her eyes.

Nonna reached forward, closing the distance between them and pulled the woman close. She would comfort her first, calm her down like she did with Adaliz. Good with Spies or not, bold or not, Miss Pauling was still child-like in her innocence and just as easy to manipulate in her emotions as any other person.

“There there, dear,” she spoke softly.

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Miss Pauling’s voice was weak with a bubble in her throat. She was about to crack and break into tears.

“It’s alright,” she spoke softly, stroking the woman’s hair like a mother would a child, “Everything is going to be alright. Don’t cry.”

Miss Pauling relaxed right into her bosom. The final sigh of released tension gave Nonna a bit of relief. She was starting to worry that Miss Pauling might actually go against Administration for once.

“You’re a really good actor,” Miss Pauling croaked.

“I’m sorry?” Nonna felt genuinely confused by the timing of the compliment.

Miss Pauling pulled away, wiping her eyes on her sleeves and sniffling. She had been genuinely crying, not acting at all. She actually felt pain for this other Spy, and felt guilty about what she was going to do.

“You’re good at that,” Miss Pauling said, “It’s the thing that makes you a good Spy.”

She looked down at the papers in her hands, all crinkled and messy. Her eyes seemed a bit bleary, so Nonna pulled out a handkerchief to dry them. The shorter woman pulled away, trying to dry her eyes on her sleeve and escape the Spy.

“We’re on the same side, Miss Pauling,” Nonna insisted, gently.

“I know,” Miss Pauling croaked, “But it doesn’t help knowing. It does not help that I feel like a traitor.”

Nonna paused, looking down at the crinkled papers. She could not see anything on them from her angle, but she could guess at what was on them. Blackmail of some form, and it would have to be a good set of blackmail, for her to be crying.

She looked at Miss Pauling, whose eyes were now swollen and red. There were few times she had seen the girl like this. Usually she took her to the Medic, Dr. Ashlynn never studied psychiatry, but somehow fit the position like a fitted glove. That usually made Miss Pauling feel better, having somebody to talk to, somebody who genuinely cared, and somebody who genuinely listened to her. But, this situation held too sensitive of information for Nonna to risk her possibly slipping information to the Medic.

“We have to move forward,” Nonna said, with a pause, “Now…I won’t pressure you. But…I’m going to let you decide.” She backed a step away, giving the shorter woman some space. “You decide, and you tell me how we’re going forward from here.”

Miss Pauling finally wiped her eyes again, rubbing them until she looked to Nonna with determination. She still looked like a sullen mess, with eyes red and swollen. But there was determination in them, matched to the way her lips stiffen and her brow drew in.

“Alright,” she held out the papers, “I have outlined what you’re going to do.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nonna crept through the darkness like she was being actively hunted. While nobody was about, she was too afraid for caution’s sake. She kept glancing at the papers under her hand, the ones pressed against her breast. She could not help but feel a tinge of fear if somebody were to walk up to her. A Scout at best and that Spy at worst.

Miss Pauling had made her promise not to reveal the information to anybody. And once she was done memorizing it all, she would burn it. It would not be known to anybody. It would not be made real to the world, not even a little bit. While the real blackmail was there, the intent was a bluff, that much Nonna understood.

She took a deep breath as she slipped past the Engineer’s workshop. It had some light pouring out of the cracks, and she could hear two voices inside. One was the familiar Irishwoman, the other was the Texan.

A bitter feeling hit her and she snarled. Damn Texan had to have done something to draw attention to himself. It had to have been him who drew the Spy’s attention to their meetings. And in the end, he had followed her to her brief talk with the BLU Spy, the Korean man their team had dubbed as ‘Chinaman.’ This had to be the Texan’s fault.

She was careful and quiet, using the noise from inside as her cover. She slipped past the shadows, heading back to what was an old vehicle graveyard. Vehicles used throughout the decades had been hauled out and left to die out here. Most of them were torn apart though, their metal used for various contraptions that the Engineer worked on. These wastes of space ended up becoming spare parts and excess metal.

When she had found a spot out far out in the junk, she settled herself into the back of an old vehicle for the night. She wanted to be far away from anybody’s prying eyes. She also did not want to be heard if she were speaking anything.

She pulled out a lighter, putting it to the lamp she had brought. Not wanting to give a hint to either Engineer, she had not asked for a light that she could have mounted. A flashlight would have been too difficult to try and hold over papers, so she left that in her pocket.

She set the light up on a shelf meant for holding ammunition crates, then she set about spreading out the papers. She placed them in an organized fashion, making the information apparent to her. She needed to memorize all of this by morning, and that meant that she would need a precise set of organization to do that. This was not a script to memorize, this was like an exercise. She needed to memorize the facts and details so that she could perform an impromptu threat on the Spy to shut him up.

In the center of all of the papers was a single picture. It looked like such a formal picture too. The man was standing in his suit, but the difference was that he was actually wearing no balaclava. Who knew the rogue was so handsome beneath that balaclava? And who knew he had a natural set of graying patches along the sides and top of his hair, making the aging of his hair look stylish.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Spy looked up from his oatmeal to see the figure in the doorway. She seemed to think she had slinked in unseen or perhaps was making an interesting entrance. She had her arms folded over her bosom, and her gaze directed down her nose.

When he looked up at her, she pushed off of the doorframe with the force of her rump and strode around the table. It was more of a strut, with a natural sway to the hips that made her curves more apparent to the eyes. She was appealing, but Spy knew better than to sink into a woman’s guiles.

“Good morning, Spy,” she spoke with a cheery tone. He was surprised she did not try to use some sort of seductive tone on him, maybe trying to rile him in manipulation. With that Russian accent of hers, it really worked well.

He took a deep breath, holding his composure, “Good morning, Spy.”

She let out a cheery laugh, “Please! Call me Nonna!”

When she was beside him, she suddenly dropped, bending at the hips. Her chest leaned, the weight shifting beneath her shirt. It was lucky that she worse something beneath the button up blouse, or else her cleavage would have shown through the strain of the buttons.

Spy was trying to shake the odd morning thoughts out of his head, trying to clear his mind, when she whispered, “May I call you Clovis?”

He almost dropped his spoon. He almost choked on the oatmeal he was swallowing down. He almost let out a yelp and leaped to his feet. But his training served him well and he remained as he was at the table.

He turned his head slightly to look her, eye to eye. She had a glint in her corneas, a gleeful expression that told of much more. She had more than his name, she had something else that he would regret. Still, he could not help but notice the dark ring beneath her eyes.

“Perhaps when you’ve finished with your oatmeal, we can have a private discussion? Your office,” the question went unanswered as she strode off, with a clip step that spoke of determination. That was not a request, question or offer, that was a demand that she knew he could not refuse.

What else did she know? What would he be able to do about it? What did she intend to do with information like his name? How did she even get this information? All of these questions and more started swimming through his mind as he tried to put pieces to the puzzle together. It seemed that the woman had already jumped up in gaining a leg up on him.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Sofia watched as the other Sniper squirmed. It had been a long day – nay, it had been a long week, and the Sniper was not doing well by psychological standards. She was not scientist, she had never studied the mind or anything, but she could tell that there was something wrong.

The man drank plenty of water, and he nibbled on a fair amount of food. But she never saw him talk to anybody else anymore. He never came to social gatherings or even bothered to join the others when they met up, even right before a round. Sometimes she found him licking his own wounds – literally licking a bullet wound after removing the intrusive article with his own knife – instead of having gone to a Medic for help.

“J-Jules?” she finally spoke up.

“Hmm?” he bit his lip as he looked over at her. She caught that slight tension in his eyes, the uncertainty about speaking to people. He had become so reclusive since her team had arrived here.

“Do…do we…my team…does my team being here make you uncomfortable?” she asked.

“What?” he looked surprise, doing a quick double take, “N-no! Not at all! It’s…I don’t know…different. But I don’t regret any of you coming here!”

She frowned sadly. It was either a lie or she was aiming for the wrong problem. She was not sure what it could be otherwise, so if it was not her and her team then she was at a loss as to what she could do to help him. He was a decent man, and she wanted him to see that in himself.

“Why would you ask that?” he asked.

“Well,” she was hesitant with her words, “You’ve been…rather…reluctant? Er…hesitant? Uncertain? I’m not sure. Frankly, I don’t know much about…cultures and people and stuff. But I know when something’s not right.”

“What you mean something’s not right?” he was defensive now, “I’m fine! Nothing’s wrong!”

“I don’t mean…but you…” she sighed with a feeling of defeat, but she would not give up, “I don’t mean to upset you. I just…when I got here, you were friendly and sweet.”

He mumbled something that made her stop talking. She glanced over to see him shifting, uneasily. His hat was downturn as he stared at his boots.

“I don’t mean you’re rude or a jerk or anything,” she insisted, hoping to ease up on him, “Just that ah…when…when I met you…you would socialize. You would get to know people. You would try to let people get to know you. Then you just…sort of…”

He turned his head away. He obviously did not want to hear more, but was stuck where he was standing. He stood there shifting from foot to foot, his face turned away from her.

“I’m sorry, Julien,” she felt her head sink forward, “I’m…I’m just concerned. That’s all. You don’t come into the base to talk to anyone. I never see you with your friends. You never go to see the Medics about your injuries. I don’t think you have even spoken to anybody but myself in days! Have you?”

The way his shoulders sunk forward told everything. He was guilty of everything she had said, and perhaps more. She wanted to fix that, and help him.

“I know I seem nosey and all for doing this…I get that y-” she was cut off as he spun to face her squarely.

“Can’t you get that I just like my privacy!” he roared at her.

She flinched back, appalled at the comeback. She was not ready for it and was not sure how to respond. Any enemy Sniper rounding on her would have been responded to with a kukri or a sawed barrel shotgun. But this was her friend and she wanted to help him, not hurt him.

“Julien, I just…I just want to help,” she insisted.

“I don’t need help,” he insisted, with a vigorous shake of his head.

“Please, Julien,” she pleaded, feeling pushed away.

“I said I don’t!” he raised his voice a little higher, “If you can’t accept that then just go!”

She flinched again, feeling a little hurt. She knew when she was not wanted, but she felt like he needed a hug. She would not hug somebody who was feeling aggressive though, so she backed away, moving out of the room.

She chewed on her lip all the way back to the base. She was turning in from practice a little earlier than usual, given that there was not much reason to stay out on the field shooting if Julien was around feeling angry at her. She did not want to be around an angry Julien. It was new to her anyways, Julien being honestly angry, especially with her.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Look at this pathetic excuse,” the Irish brogue lilted into the room.

Pyro looked up from what they were doing. They had been focused on the dolls the other Pyro gave them to play with, making a movie in their head. But, now there was a new movie to watch, with the Engineers in the room.

“What? What are you talking about, woman?” Alan crooked, his sweet Texan accent beckoning back to the black and white cowboy shows. Pyro loved those, and loved watching this as a black and white style movie.

“I told you not to be up all night,” the Irishwoman responded, with a shake of her head.

She was a strong looking woman, and Pyro imagined she took after her mothers before her in that strong Irish pride. She could probably throw a man over her head if she wanted to, and Pyro tried to imagine her doing it. It would be amazing to see her pick up Alan and just chuck him over his workbench, out of a temper tantrum.

“I slept for four hours,” Alan protested, “Not to worry.”

“Not to worry?” Shelly scoffed.

She pulled off her helmet to scratch her red hair. Pyro regretted trying to watch this in black and white, Shelly had fabulously red hair that looked brilliant in most any lighting. Pyro imagined her pulling the ponytail out and swinging that hair around. Even with the sweat and grime she would have looked magnificent, like a movie star.

“I ain’t getting any younger,” Alan admitted, “But I don’t have the time to be sweatin’ in the bed. I’ve got my work cut out for me, you know.”

“Sweatin’ in the bed? Fuck’s that even mean?” Shelly recoiled.

“Never mind, never mind,” Alan put up his hands defensively, “I’ll get more sleep next night. Alright?”

“Losing sleep isn’t doing you any favors,” Shelly quipped.

Pyro intertwined their fingers and rested their chin as they studied the two characters before them. One was a determined but motherly Irishwoman; what an interesting character! The other was a hardheaded country man, with a soft spot for women, especially the kind who could push him around; what a perfect love story. Pyro smiled as he watched them bicker about the amount of sleep that Alan was getting. They were like a couple already.

A boot tapped their leg and they looked up to see the other Pyro. The Pyro waved, seeming to smile at them. They waved back cheerfully.

The Pyro lifted a hand to show off a box of crayons and stickers they had brought with them. Pyro leaped to their feet and clapped their hands eagerly. It would be fun to color and draw with the other Pyro. This Pyro was a girl though, so they all approved of her doing these kinds of things without question, not like Pyro’s own experiences, which had been met with problems for years, until he settled here at the base. It even took the Engineer a long time to understand and except that they simply enjoyed playing children’s games, coloring and especially stickers.

The stickers were the best. And this girl, Yukina they called her, had all the best stickers. She had tractor stickers, kitten stickers, bright stickers, foreign stickers, baseball stickers and a whole slew of emoticon stickers. It was the best collection of fantastical whimsical fun they had ever seen.

They sat down at an unused workbench, pushing aside some tools, to draw and color with Yukina. They pushed the bickering out of their mind, letting Alan and Shelly have their fuss without their attention. They kept their attention on the fantastic stickers Yukina brought with her. And were those new crayons? Five hundred colors? This would be the most fun they had had yet!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sven has been concerned for a while, and might be the only person to notice that Ash seems to have an issue with BLU Medics, including Bernice.  
> Poor Miss Pauling. She has much respect for this team, she doesn't want to betray them. I felt so bad for her I had to insert a hug somewhere.  
> Sofia and Julien are two very different people from very different backgrounds. Please remember that.  
> Pyro is now best character. It's canon and you can't convince me otherwise.


	20. Talk About It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sofia is concerned about Julien (Sniper) and brings it up to Lucy. A trip down to the infirmary and she thinks she's found something new about the doctor.  
> Everybody thinks they know the Medic, don't they? But nobody knows Dr. Ash like Yukina knows them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It has been a while since I posted this one.

Sofia nodded to Lucy in greeting as she had a seat at the bench. Lucy nodded in response, pushing aside the tentative little project she had been focused on. She pulled out her sticky launcher to clean. Sofia responded by laying out her favorite sniper rifle on the table to clean.

“You been doin’ alright lately, Sof?” Lucy asked, as she pulled apart her weapon.

“Yea,” Sofia disassembled her weapon like it was second nature. Training had served her well, from the war in Iraq to this private war on American soil.

“Noticed you aren’t out practice shooting right now,” Lucy noted, “Why’s that?”

Sofia hesitated, with a sigh. Lucy was closest to her in regards to friendship on this team. The two of them went together like honey and bees. But she was not entirely sure they always saw eye to eye on things, especially religion and culture. She was not sure if the woman would see the problem when presented with it.

“It’s Julien,” she said simply.

“Oh?” Lucy pressed, cleaning oil off the parts of her gun, “What about him?”

“He’s…” Sofia paused with uncertainty.

“He’s what?” Lucy pressed, eagerly.

“He’s a bit grouchy I think,” Sofia finally stated.

“What do you mean by grouchy?” Lucy became distracted from what she was doing. What was usually an automatic task was ignored as Lucy’s gaze turned to the Sniper.

“Well…er…maybe grouchy isn’t the word for it,” Sofia shrugged with uncertainty.

“What then?” Lucy asked, still ignoring her gun.

“Well,” Sofia set her own gun aside for the moment, “He’s typically sweet, and he seems like a shy guy who wants to talk. But really, lately, he’s just not…sociable?”

“Makes sense,” Lucy returned to cleaning her gun, with tentative fingers.

“I just feel like he’s not doing well,” Sofia explained, “And I’m worried that he isn’t doing so well.”

“Well,” Lucy gave a heavy sigh, “Leave the man ‘lone and you’ll find he can deal with himself and his own dealings. I’m sure he’ll be fine.”

Sofia sighed with a nod. Perhaps that was the best course of action. She did not know him that well. They had barely been there two weeks yet, and she was assuming a lot about him. Perhaps this was his norm.

“But if’n I find out he’s been hittin’ you, the man is going to pay a heavy fearsome price,” Lucy said, in a warning growl.

Sofia laughed softly. She loved Lucy like a sister. They did not hit it off right away when she arrived, given she was unused to unruly drunken women. But Lucy’s drinking habits leveled out and she became a little softer when speaking to the Muslim girl on the team. Once their bond solidified at some point, they became best friends off the battlefield, and Sofia found herself something like a big sister. Strange, seeing as she was the oldest of ten siblings.

“You just tell me,” Lucy pointed a finger at her, “Give me the word, and I’ll bend him over my knee!”

Sofia chuckled, but realizing that Lucy had actually done this before – to John no less – she shook her head to refuse the offer. “He isn’t violent, Lucy,” she defended him, “He’s just…I’m concerned.”

“I understand,” Lucy nodded, “But maybe some space will do him good.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Sofia nodded.

She wondered what the Medic would do. She seemed pretty knowledgeable about social sciences and psychology. It was not a far cry to think that she would have the best idea of how to handle the Sniper.

“You’re not going to overthink this, are you?” Lucy asked, with suspicion in her voice.

“Since when do I overthink things?” Sofia scoffed.

“Since when do you over think things?” Lucy replied, sarcastically, “Sofi…second to the Medic, you’re the most overthinking-est of all the mercenaries on this team. I bet you overthink things more than the people on the…resident team too!”

Sofia chuckled, shaking her head, “Come on Lucy.” She quickly reassembled her rifle, a set of movements that had become second nature to her, like breathing. “You don’t know everything about me,” she insisted.

“No…I probably don’t,” Lucy shook her head. She picked up the pieces to her weapon and started putting them back together into a grenade launcher. “Just don’t overthink this, Sof,” she insisted.

 

Sofia did end up thinking about it some more. Eventually, she came to the conclusion that the only person she could really get a surefire answer on this from was Medic. The professional had more experience with people, even just in life, than Sofia would ever have.

She made her way down to the infirmary in hopes of finding the Medic laboring over some remedial paperwork. She crept inside and looked around, not wanting to be rude. Even if she would purposefully interrupt the Medic during remedial work, she would not purposefully disturb her during anything else.

“Yes? Hello, Sniper!” she heard a deep German voice instead of the one she was looking for.

At first she was startled, and she had to compose herself. She turned to the male Medic, taking a deep breath. The man was just as intimidatingly large as the enemy Medics. He was almost more intimidating than Beatrice, with his physical presence alone.

He peered down at her from behind small circular rimmed glasses, “You are the uh…the female Sniper, are you not?”

She nodded slowly, taking him in. He was not taller than Jules, in fact he had to be shorter. Still, there was something about his broad presence and his commanding posture that made her feel even smaller.

“Is there something I can help you with? Are you injured, or sick?” he asked, hoping to assist her.

She cleared her throat, trying to force herself to speak, “Ah, yes. Um…where is the M- the other Medic?” She felt odd for fumbling over her words.

He chuckled, a deep throated sound, “I didn’t realize the female Sniper was as inadequate at social graces as our own Sniper.”

“Hey!” she spat, taken aback by what he said.

“The other doctor is currently seeing the Engineers about repairs on the kritzkrieg,” he finally answered her question.

“Right,” she nodded, averting her eyes, “Thank you, doctor.”

“No problem, and no need to be shy, Sniper,” he bent at the hips slightly, chuckling softly. He had the biggest toothiest grin of any man she had ever seen.

She cleared her throat, “Yukina is shy. Julien is even shy. I am not shy, doctor.” She cleared her throat again, straightening herself up. “If you don’t mind, I need to speak with the other doctor,” she turned on her heel, headed for the double doors.

“Julien? You mean…hmm…Sniper?” he asked.

She glanced over her shoulder, “Um, yea?”

“Oh…makes sense, you probably spend time working together,” the doctor noted. He had averted his eyes, but he looked like he was thinking, the cogs turning in his head.

“Well, yea,” she shrugged, “Julien’s a good shooter. And he knows his way around the area. Got the map in his head and all. Takes a bit to get that kind of familiarity of the area.”

“You know the…the other Medic, right?” he asked.

“Well, yea,” she gave him a questioning look, “She came with our team. Of course I know her.”

“Do you know her name?” he asked, with a suspicious look on his face.

Sofia was about to respond with a simple no, when she realized that that was strange. The Medic almost insisted on knowing every single team member’s name, filing it into her notes with their medical records. They all knew each other by name, even the Pyro, a class that was known to be rather secretive on every team on both sides of the war. But the Medic had never given Sofia her own name, choosing instead to be called Medic or Doctor.

“I thought not,” he sighed, placing his hands behind his back. He proceeded towards his desk at the other side of the infirmary. “I won’t hold you up any longer,” he said, gesturing to her dismissively, “I’m sure you’ll find the other Medic in the Engineer’s workshop.”

“Why would you ask about that?” she asked.

“No reason. Why?” he lied. She could practically smell the lie on his tongue from where she was standing.

“It seems rather odd,” she noted, “Like maybe you’re fishing for her name cause of a reason. Like…” Something clicked in her mind and her eyes lit up. A smile started to curl on her lips as she turned and darted out of the infirmary.

She could not contain herself for long. She had to let herself let loose sooner or later. She found herself an isolated area and started laughing, giggling until she burst into full blown hysteria. When she was finally able to control and calm herself, she straightened up and headed to the workshop. There was still the matter of Julien and what the Medic thought would be best for her to do about the man’s anti-social behavior.

When she arrived at the workshop, she found the Pyros seated on a table with a bench, coloring and putting stickers all over paper. The floor was becoming littered with the remains of their previous works. They were scribbling in all of the colors of the rainbow and beyond, with reckless abandon. She wondered if the Pyros had finally found their own kin in each other.

She pushed the thought to the back of her mind with a chuckle, as she turned her attention to the Engineers in the room. The man had already turned to smile and tip his hardhat. Shelly on the other hand was hard at work on something. She looked too engrossed to look up from what she was doing, not even to acknowledge Sofia.

“Howdy there!” the Texan greeted there, “Sniper is it?”

“Call me Sofia,” she nodded to him in greeting.

Upon hearing the name, Shelly looked up and gave her a nod, “Oh, hey Sofi. What are you up to? You don’t come ‘round here.”

“Yea, um…I’m just looking for the doc is all,” she shrugged.

“Should be at the infirmary,” the man offered.

“Nah, I just came from there,” she retorted.

“Did you check the dining hall?” Shelly offered, “They might be prepping Pyro’s supper or something. You know how obsessive they get about her diet.”

“No I’ll check there,” she nodded, “But did you see her then?”

“What? I haven’t seen her since I left the infirmary two or three hours ago,” Shelly gave her a surprised expression from behind her goggles.

“Oh…so she wasn’t down here?” Sofia asked, pursing her lips for thought. The kitchen would have to be the next place to check.

“Nah. Why would sh-THEY-” Shelly corrected herself to abruptly that it was alarming. It made Sofia think about it as well, realizing that she had been identifying Medic as a woman all day. Medic would have had a silent tantrum if they had learned of that. “What possessed you to think Medic came down here?” Shelly finally asked.

“Well, I went to the infirmary, and the other Medic said he thought s-they came down here,” she explained, “So here I am, looking for Medic.”

“Can’t you see that other Medic ‘bout it? He’s got qualifications, don’t he?” she looked to the man for answers. He paused for thought, scratching the shaven scalp under his hardhat.

“Not really,” Sofia shook her head.

“But, if you need a Medic, you should just get it taken care of,” Shelly insisted.

“He’s an intimidating man, but once you get past his stature and such, he’s an alright guy,” the male Engineer offered.

Sofia sighed, shaking her head, “That’s not it. I’m okay. I just got some questions for the Medic, that’s all.”

“Questions that the other Medic cannot answer?” Shelly pressed, reassuring herself of that fact.

“Yes,” Sofia assured her, with a nod.

“Well, I dunno how to help you,” Shelly shrugged, “I gotta work on this here dispenser. It’s taken too much damage the past few battles. And we need to be suited for battle tomorrow. Better’n today.”

“Thanks anyways,” Sofia shrugged, about to leave the workshop, before she remembered the thought that had occurred to her before, “Hey…you seem awful close to the Medic…do you reckon sh-they have any preferences? Like, you know, to people?”

Shelly raised an eyebrow at her, “What on God’s green Earth do you mean?”

“You know,” her cheeks heated as she thought about what she was about to offer.

“I reckon I don’t,” Shelly replied, “Explain.”

Sofia looked between the two Engineers, her cheeks growing hot. She could not believe what she was about to offer to them. She wanted to disappear and break herself for even thinking of it. But at the same time, this felt like such a good moment to share what she had gathered from talking to the other Medic.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Sofia did not even notice the Pyro bouncing on her toes eagerly. She had picked up on the tenseness of the topic and could already guess at what was going on. If anybody else had picked up on the words spoken between the Medic and the Spy before, then they would be on the same page as she was on Dr. Ash.

“Y-you know,” Sofia was stammering nervously and with much shame. She was such a modest and conservative woman. “The kinda people she-they like?”

Shelly’s eyebrows shot up but she was silent. Alan chuckled nervously, pulling off his hardhat. He said nothing though, not wanting to ruin the moment for what it was. The other Pyro shrugged and continued drawing with crayons. They had almost finished filling every blank white page with rainbow colors and pictures.

Dr. Ash was too important though. For Yukina, no number of colored crayons or beautiful stickers could distract her from her life-long guardian and doctor. She knew the Medic longer than anybody else on either team, and she would give everything to see Dr. Ash be giddy with joy with that little spark that was love. She wanted the doctor to have what she had with Shelly.

“I…erm…don’t reckon they like one or the other in particular,” Shelly shrugged, speaking with such uncertainty and nervousness, “Why’s it you’re asking?”

“Seems like a mighty big question to be asking somebody,” Alan added, “Shouldn’t you ask the uh…the doc? I mean, it’s about them. So I reckon it’s best you got it from the horse’s mouth.”

“I would think so…but you know…” Sofia put on a small but coy smile, “The Medic’s not forthcoming with information.”

“What? I don’t know what you mean,” Shelly argued. She had a furrow to her brow that spoke of disbelief.

“Well, I mean…do either of you know the Medic’s name?” Sofia asked, “Or what color they like best? Or what little town they are from? I’ll bet-”

“Well of course I know that,” Shelly assured her, with a cocky grin growing on her face, “But I’m not gonna tell ya.”

“Why not?” Sofia blinked at her with disbelief.

“It’s not my business to tell,” Shelly said, gesturing to her dismissively, “So, I reckon if I knew what her sexuality was, then I would not tell you that either. So you’ll just have to go and find them to ask them instead.”

“Seems mighty logical,” Alan said, placing the hardhat back on his head.

Yukina started to speak, knowing that her words were muffled in the mask, “Medic’s name is Ashlynn Harding. They were born a woman, but do not identify that way because they feel their gender is much more obscure than the straight line given to the delineation between female and male. They used to go by female until sometime after we joined Mann Co, when we learned about stuff like sexuality and gender. That was when she picked up more updated books, the ones from America and England, about gender and equality and stuff. She would read and read about sociology and the relevance of identity in the mind and within society. And so now they just go by Ash, because it is more gender neutral than Ashlynn. But, they never really figured out their sexuality because they never really found somebody they wanted.”

She took a deep breath. She paused to see if anybody was listening. She found that everybody had tuned her out and were talking amongst themselves.

“As for her favorite color, she loves purples. They are a commanding color, a royal color, and they adore them in all hues. The wears faded purples and dark purples, because they feels they represent who they are in a kimono. But they like to be surrounded by bright purples and flashy purples as well.”

Still, nobody was listening. They were all awkwardly talking. They were not even really having a conversation, just saying things in sporadic instances.

“As for where they are from? Dr. Ash was born in Okinawa, where her father was stationed. Ash’s mother brought them and their older siblings to Osaka, where they lived until her family died. So whatever the case may be, American or not, Dr. Ash was originally grown in Okinawa and Osaka.”

She finally stopped talking, but they had not. They were paying no attention to her muttering. The fact that she was making any noise did not seem to faze them.

“Look, all I am trying to say is that if you are insinuating something…don’t,” Shelly shook a stern finger at her.

Yukina flinched a bit. She did not like to be at the receiving end of that finger shake. She always wanted to be on Shelly’s good side.

“I’m not…well…” Sofia’s voice tapered off with what seemed like shame.

“I thought so,” Shelly shook her finger again.

Yukina sighed as Sofia left the workshop. Maybe she should go after her to tell her what she thought of the whole thing. Then again, Dr. Ash was more secretive than anybody she knew. Being a Medic and being more secretive made her a stark contrast to Nonna, whose class was supposed to be secretive. It shocked Yukina for a moment, as she began to think about how the two classes of that particular team were being polar opposites. One being too secretive to the team where they should probably be more open, and the other being completely open about everything when they were supposed to hide everything.

“You get distracted again, Yuki?” Shelly interrupted her thougths.

She glanced from one Engineer to the other. She felt so left out of the conversation. It almost seemed like cruelty.

“Why don’t you go finish pictures with Pyro? Hmm? I’ll be done here in about an hour?” Shelly motioned to the table draped in coloring utilities with her wrench.

Pyro nodded and proceeded to the table. She sat down next to Pyro and picked up some crayons. She thought that maybe the other Pyro was the best on both RED teams at keeping things secretively hidden. She did not even know what their face looked like, what their voice sounded like, or what color their skin was. For all she knew, they could be an alien from outer space. That was an interesting thought to entertain, and it kept her busy for a long time.

In fact, when she was finally shaken out of her thinking stupor, it was time to go. Engineer Shelly had finished her work and was ready to retire for a good day’s rest. But, what innocent little Southern boy Alan did not seem to notice was that Shelly was going to Yukina’s room for the evening. Yukina did not mind, in fact she looked forward to it. She would spend some close and personal time with Shelly, wrapped up in her arms, probably munching on popcorn. They would watch something from Yukina’s collection of animations – tackily dubbed “Japanese anime” as a whole genre.


	21. Who is Interrogating Whom?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna confronts the other Spy in his own space, the smoking room. Can this end well? Or will they both lose their jobs (and maybe their lives)? But, somebody's listening to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard for me to write.

Nonna felt so at ease that she just could not care that she was in the other Spy’s smoke room. Not that she really had a space to call her own in which to interrogate him. She would be at a disadvantage, being in his domain, but he could be more relaxed here. He would feign relaxation and comfort, and try to use everything he had to his advantage.

She switched to French, as she strode through the empty space. Her high heels clicked against the floor, reverberating against the walls of a large room. They put a ticking behind her voice, adding to what was already a strict sound in her tone.

“So tell me Spy…or…is it alright if I call you Clovis? You didn’t really answer my question on that. Or perhaps I should call you Lapin?” she smirked at that, giving off an air of haughtiness. Part of her felt bad for using what was strictly a nickname his beloved once called him. “I don’t really care what I need to call you,” she said, glancing over her shoulder to see him securing the door. She became more aware of the likeliness of him trying to kill her, but that would mean nothing with the respawn still on.

“What do you know?” he demanded with a dark tone.

“Nothing,” she spoke with a light and airy voice, teasing at his ears, “Buuuuuut…I know everything. I know about who you are. I know your life. I know your skillsets. Your past lovers. The ones from high school…the ones from college…the son you lost. Should I write this all down for you?”

She was outwardly taunting him with this information. She knew all of his secrets. She knew his name and his life. She knew how to press his buttons. She knew about the scars along the back of his thigh from a car accident in college. That would be a pressure point of pain that most were unaware of, which she could use if they ever got in a hand-to-hand combat situation.

But, on the inside she felt so black and cold. She hated what she was doing. She hated the words spilling from her mouth, with the inky nastiness that they held. It was worse than any part she had acted on stages and television sets in Russia. This was not a fake part, this was real, a real man’s life, a real man’s name and a real man’s feelings being cut into with surgical precision.

“What do you want?” he demanded, walking slowly and carefully towards her. Despite the crisp step his Italian kicks would normally have in the hallways, she noted that they were exceptionally quiet. The precise carefulness he had in his step made him like a cat in that regard.

“I want you…” she paused, putting both hands behind her back and rotating her torso. It was a playful look, almost to throw him off with the obvious attempt at innocence. “I want the information you’ve gathered. What you’ve been snooping on. Who you’ve been snooping on. I want your intel, and I want you to back down.”

His expression grew darker, as he came to a stop. He was just beyond arm’s length now, keeping them at safe distances from each other when it came to an actual fight. If one of them went for a gun though, one leap could take the other down. She doubted he would actually try anything though, as she was sure he just wanted this all to go away.

“If you want this to go away,” she said, donning a soft and reassuring tone of voice, “Then do as I ask. I won’t tell anyone. I won’t show the pictures I have. I won’t share the documents I have acquired.”

He was quick to question, snapping in her face, “What have you acquired? And how did you manage to gain such information?” His voice came in an angry growl now, showing how much he loathed her.

“Oh please, like a Spy would share such secrets!” she rolled her eyes and pulled out a cigarette, “Mind if I smoke.”

He gestured for her to continue, so without giving it a second thought, she lit it up. She took a deep drag, calming herself down. She did not let on that she was feeling down about all of this, but she needed something to relax.

She gestured to his lounge chairs, “Please, have a seat. We don’t need to rush this.” She pulled the cigarette from her mouth as she strode to the chair, inviting herself to it without pause.

He looked very displeased at this. His space was being invaded by her, and she knew it all too well. She was taking advantage of it the best she could. She would let him simmer in that anger.

“You are going to be silent for the rest of this conversation?” she asked, laying her leg across her left knee.

He sat down in the other chair, in a slow and deliberate way. His anger was apparent, though he was struggling to keep his face placid and unmoved. She could tell that he wanted to act as a Spy, but had already lost his edge to her. She might as well have peeled the balaclava off of his head.

“I want to know what it is that is going on,” Clovis finally conceded.

She hesitated under the pressure of the question, “I cannot give you that.”

“Then you cannot have the files,” he stated, with a dismissive gesture of his hand.

She tossed her hair and laughed. She let a gleeful smile settle on her lips and her hair settle over her shoulders. She relaxed back into the seat, the leather shifting and sighing beneath her weight. She rested her elbow against the armrest.

“I’m not leaving the files here, if you think you’ll rut them out,” he told her sternly.

She continued smiling, painting a picture of somebody who was overly confident in what they knew and what they were going to do. In reality, her heart was sinking and she felt like she was in a losing battle. She wanted to cry out an apology and turn away to run. She wanted to leave, apologize for everything she had said, and tell him that all of his information was safe with her.

She had never been so threatening with somebody’s personal information before – at least, not with somebody she had gotten to know. She had not known the Spy up until now, not by name or by his history. Yet there was something wrong about having all of this information on him and threatening him with it, after spending so much time talking to him and getting to see how good of a Spy he was. Now that she thought about it, she wondered if her own efforts were in part to impress him, as a more experienced Spy.

“You won’t find them here,” he stated.

“Then I won’t find them at all,” she said, “because they don’t exist. Do they?”

His lip twitched slightly, “You won’t find them here.”

“They don’t exist, and I am wasting my time here, aren’t I?” she gave him a knowing smirk, a little bluff to push him.

He lit up his own cigarette and paused to take a deep drag of it, “I have resources that-”

“You have nothing!” she spat, in a quick change of mood.

He was a bit taken aback, silenced by her quick change. She took this as a moment to let the silence sink in. Once it was finally settled, she took quickly took up the conversation.

“You don’t have any resources to speak of,” she growled at him, “You don’t know this world like I know it. You’ve been isolated to this little war, it’s left you learning only the same old tricks and the same old things.” She leaned forward in her seat, bringing herself slowly towards him. “Everything you’ve done for the past forty-nine years has been recorded and tracked on cameras. Every time you have left this base’s cameras you have been on the other base’s cameras. And off of the battlefield, you have been tracked to the local bars, the nearest towns, and to the farthest reaches that you can go. Nowhere you have been in the past half a century has gone unnoticed or untracked.”

There was no time to stop here. She could not pause to read his expression, or else she would second guess herself. If she gave him a moment, he might slip in, being a highly experienced Spy. If Miss Pauling’s words were correct, then he was one of the best, if not the most talented Spy in Mann Co’s hire.

“Your cohorts have been routed out,” she told him, “Every connection you think you have left is a faux relationship. Every connection you have ever made before has either died, been taken into prison, or is under strict watch. You have nothing, no resources and no connections. There is nowhere for you to have stashed files or evidence outside of this base.”

He chuckled haughtily, removing his angry exterior, “And what makes you so sure of that?”

“I’ve got the resources you don’t,” she told him sternly, “And I know more about this system, this war, than you could ever think possible. So right now, you’re not actually the one in command of what’s going on here. You’ve got none of the cards, given that your evidence doesn’t exist.”

He chuckled at her, shaking his head slowly, “If only you knew my capacity.”

“I do,” she gave him a nod of certainty, “I know you were specifically trained in your area of expertise. You attended schools that raised boys to be hidden in plain sight but also deadly killers. But, what you don’t know about me is that no matter your skillset, I still have all of the cards in my hand. And if not me, then the next Spy to fill my shoes.”

She relaxed back again, resting the side of her head against her fist as her elbow returned to the armrest. She gave him a thoughtful look, her lips quirked to the side. If he was affected in any way, he did not show it. He had gathered his wits about himself, keeping his facial expression placid and his body still. He became completely unexpressive.

She was not sure how he might handle the conversation from here. If he tried to elude her any longer, she might have to report that she was not in the know of his intel. She would not be able to control him outside of the blackmail. She needed to coerce him into giving her what he knew, so she and Administration could keep a closer watch on what he could do.

“I’ve told you some of what I know,” she switched to English, folding her hands and placing them in her lap, “So tell me something of what you know.”

There were a few minutes of silence, as the two of them nursed their cigarettes. Clovis was graceful in putting out the spent butt, before lighting up a new one. She almost could not make her eyes turn away from his hand, at seeing how his fingers posed and moved.

“I know that Nonna is not your name,” he growled at her.

“Oh?” she almost laughed at that. Of course a Spy would figure that out, because it was amazing that the smartest of her own teammates had not figured that out.

“Your hair is completely natural, but…your face is different,” he told her.

She snickered a bit, “Oh really. And what apparent files did you dredge that up from?”

“No files,” he sounded humored at the statement, “Just the alignment of your nose. You’ve had work done. Your nose is unnaturally Roman, your cheeks are a bit more prominent than they should be.”

She chuckled, “So you’re a detective now, are you?”

“What’s the difference? One just works for agencies and governments,” he shrugged, “The other works in the shadows, out of the public eye.”

“Rather insightful,” she expressed interest with a slight raise of the eyebrows, “But that says nothing that I did not already know. You’re an insightful man. You were trained to catch the littlest details, to pick up information others would overlook, and slip into the shadows while doing it.”

“You’re a woman of great venue of traits, but none for the fight of war,” Clovis replied.

Nonna shook her head, giving a small smirk. She was not dissuaded from her work so easily. She had faced many words of attempted dissuasion, from men putting down her sex, from people putting her down for her sexuality, and especially from the women who saw her as a demeaning icon for women. She saw herself as a proud and strong woman, not what they thougth of her. They thought her as the demeaning icon of sexuality and historical expectations of female beautification. She could be a powerful mercenary, with makeup and heels.

“But you still think you have the upper hand?” he asked, tilting his head slightly.

She giggled at that, “Don’t you? It’s like a Spy to think oneself above the other in the room. But…I suppose it remains to be seen…what evidence exists?” She made her grin a little wider.

Her head started to ache, right at the top. At first she wanted to go take a pill, something from the Medic, then she decided that she wanted to go throw up. It made her feel so sick to be manipulating this man.

“If you have nothing to show for your supposed work outside of the battlefield,” she rose from the chair, “Then I’m still the one with the upperhand!”

He leaped from his chair, towering over her. His eyes were like steel blades, a gaze that could cut through the wall of the room. She thought that he might lurched for her, being well within arm’s length this time. He could easily reach up and grab her by the throat, maybe shake her a little, to try and make her give up.

“You were originally an actress on the low end television circuit,” he said, with what seemed like a growling warning in his voice.

She did not let this get to her, despite the squeamish feeling in her gut. Her headache was not subsiding, making her feel sicker and sicker all the while. She refrained from licking her dry lips.

“You were only ever trained for this job,” she stated, “You went to school for this. In fact, your parents put you up to this. So when the Second Great War was over? You were sent right into nothing but poverty. Of course you would be scooped up by this company like every other Spy pushed into that.”

Clovis’ face was growing hot, she could see it on the skin showing from under the balaclava, “You were picked up off of the circuit because you were a fading face. You were a joke. The has been.”

She spat a laugh, “I was at the peak of my work!”

“Denial?” he sounded like he thought he had the upper hand, “Deny it. It means nothing. You were falling out.”

“I wasn’t,” she told him simply, “I was at my peak, but it was falling from me.” She smirked up at him, feeling self-empowered by her own words. “Just like your family was falling from you, wasn’t it? It couldn’t keep you from falling away from it. You just could not help yourself in your old habits, and that’s why Paige left you. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? That’s why Paige disappeared with Abel, isn’t it?”

The look in his eyes pained her. It stabbed her directly into the heart. In her mind’s eye, she saw the little family picture that had been tucked into the files, but she was sure that he was seeing the last look on Paige’s face, and the last thing his son had said. They were important to him back then, and they were important to him now, but it took him too long to realize that he needed to show that to them.

“You cannot compare to any of your teammate’s hardiness on the battlefield, so you make up for it with cockiness and all of your well placed fancy acting,” he said, with all of the fire in his voice that she had expected, “Your turn.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “Says the man who hides behind a mask in fear. Never to let down his walls to anyone.”

He let out an awkward chuckle, “My work requires my attire. I’ve been doing this since the Second Great War, and you? You’ve just been dabbling your fingers in this.”

She tossed her head back and laughed, “Dabbling? Hah! I run the show!”

“If that were the case, I would not have so much information you did not want me to have,” he stated.

“And what if I wanted you to have it?” she quirked an eyebrow, giving him a hint. It was a bluff, but she would ride it out, nonetheless.

“Then what would you be doing here blackmailing me?” he demanded in a thick growl.

“Perhaps I’m simply testing,” she shrugged, moving around the Spy. She dropped her spent cigarette into an ash tray, before she quickly lit up a new one. She paused, posing dramatically with her hips skewed and her eyes taking him in over the embers.

“Testing what?” he growled.

“You really don’t get it?” she gestured with her hand in a careless way, “Then you might not be as good a Spy as Pauling made you out to be.”

“Pauling?” he demanded, following her as she circled him, turning her back to his front.

“Yes of course,” she shrugged, “Who else would choose which Spy? I mean…there must be a hundred or so Spies in employ for Mann Co. But it would take somebody who has had to shuffle around with every single Spy, knowing each Spy on a personal level, to choose this.”

“Choose a Spy…for what?” he gave her a suspicious glare. His lips were starting too quirk in anger.

“I don’t think you’re up for that,” Nonna stated.

He went to his liquor cabinet slowly. She turned ever so slightly to watch him. She did not look quick enough to see where he got the papers in his hands from. He turned around to face her. Their gazes met, her playful expression for his spiteful glare.

“Your entire operation has nothing to do with assigning a Spy,” he said, walking slowly towards her, each step calculated.

Curiosity was starting to drive Nonna towards him, as she tried to peer at the papers in his hand. She wondered what was on them. What kind of information did they hold? Were they pertinent to anything that she thought he was snooping on?

“Your work has been to manipulate both teams,” he went on, without hesitation, “And yet neither you nor your cohorts have calculated for the Spies around you. You’ve been caught in your lies.”

“Oh boo hoo,” she laughed, “Can’t handle a Spy’s work? Get a new one!” She shook her head at him slowly. The wheels were turning so fast in her head that she could not stop now. “You’ve been one of the lucky ones…not getting replaced, misplaced, relocated, rejected, or even…” She let her words hang off on that one, allowing him to fill in the blanks where she needed him to. “Luck does have a way of running out though,” she shrugged.

“Insinuate what you want,” Clovis growled, “I’m not buying it.”

“I’m not insinuating anything,” she replied, “You’re one of the best Spies, and Mann Co acknowledges that. But if you don’t want to end up buried under your workers’ feet, never knowing what ever happened to that damned Spy, replaced by some guy they pulled out of the clink, who’s got all the spunk of a mercenary but none of the cunning…then you’re gonna have to be a bit more cooperative. This world isn’t kind to anybody, and being a Spy in it doesn’t work the same way as it once did.”

She saw his body tense up, and then he forced himself to relax. She waited, letting him think about this for a bit. She was all too aware that Spy was looking for a way out of this.

“You don’t have Paige anymore. You don’t have Abel anymore,” she spoke softly now, wanting to seem a bit gentler than before. She could see the pain in his eyes when she spoke their names though, so she was still not gentle enough with him. “And if you tried to leave Mann Co? You would just be another hunted animal. The breed is dying out, only kept under the care of Mann Co’s employees.”

“I notice you don’t mention RED or BLU,” he cut in.

Her lip twitched, “RED…BLU…it doesn’t matter. Both fall under Mann Co in the end. Even when this war started, they fell under that same company. Didn’t you notice?”

His lip twitched with irritation, “I am not stupid, I am merely curious why you don’t think-”

“Neither are different,” she waved off whatever he was going to say, “But if you want to keep this job…you’re going to have to roll over and play nice. What you will find if you lift the rocks is something you do not want to find out. It will not end well for you, when Administration realizes what you know.”

“Helen and I have been on good terms since I have known her,” he returned, hoping to gain ground.

“Helen doesn’t have power in the Administration anymore,” she growled, “She’s just a face and a voice. She’s an actor now, nothing more. She’s a pawn.”

Clovis was silent, his face going still. She could see the thoughts appearing in his mind as he worked through what this meant or could mean. She hoped it did not lead him too close to the truth. She was already feeding him so much information that she was skirting trouble with Administration.

She pointed at one of the cameras in the room, walking around the other Spy, “Not many places left where you can escape those cameras.”

He was quick to quip, “Added security allows Helen to-”

“To what?” she turned to face him abruptly, “You think Helen can spend all of that time looking at all of those monitors? You think Helen can manage that much footage? You think she goes through everything with a fine comb? She is one woman, and she is old. She cannot handle the work she once could, so she has landed a cushy job as the voice and the face of Administration. She does what they tell her, not the other way around.”

Clovis was starting to panic a little bit, “But…Helen…I spoke to-”

A sudden beeping interrupted their conversation. It was not anything Clovis owned, rather it was a device tucked safely into an inner pocket of Nonna’s blazer. She reached into it and carefully pulled out the cellphone. The mercenaries of these teams were not supposed to have cellphones, or even be aware that cellphones could be that small – not even to touch the subject that satellite phones could work all the way out here in the middle of the Badlands. She did not want him to be alarmed, probably unaware of what the device she held was, so she moved slowly and watched him carefully, as she opened the flip phone and put it to her ear.

She spoke quickly and harshly, “What is it?”

A man’s voice responded, “Agent Nonna, you’re crossing the line. You’re giving more information to the Spy than was agreed upon. Pull out and do not give him anymore answers. Tell him no more questions and leave. We will get an alternative to get the intel.”

She felt her body heat with a sense of panic. She was just as aware of her own demise as of Clovis.’ If they thought they could replace her, she would prove them wrong.

“On the contrary, things are coming up Nonna,” she closed the phone and tucked it away. She approached the Spy slowly and carefully. “Are you willing to die for a little useless information?” she asked him.

“How is it useless if you want to protect it so strongly?” he asked in a growl.

“Oh you would be surprised at how useless it really is,” she told him, “But you…they like you. They want you. But you have to be…well…not in the know. You see, the way things work with Mann Co now, Spies like me…Spies who know? We’re not…what they want.” She put a sad tone in her voice at that, trying to downplay her own role in this.

“Don’t make this out like you are protecting me,” he growled.

“Haven’t you been listening to anything I have said?” she gasped, shaking her head with disbelief, “Put it all together! They know everything about you. They have everything on you, all the dirt, the dirty secrets, the family you once had… They own you now. And if you try to defy them they will put you in a place…”

“And what place would that be?” he approached her, chest puffed up proudly and a challenge in his tone.

She shook her head, “How much do you like working with the men you know at Badlands?”

 

*********************************************************************

 

Yukina listened with quiet despair. She could not believe what she was listening to. What she had been trying to do was just adjust her own radio. Somehow, she managed to pick up on some frequency that Nonna’s earpiece was on.

Was it true though? Was the other Spy’s name Clovis? And did he have a family? A woman named Paige and a child named Abel?

She felt a tug at her heart as she tried not to cry. She wanted to click the walkie talkie to speak out, hoping to get her to hand the earpiece to the Spy. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was about such a turn of life.

What was more frightening was Nonna. She knew the woman was manipulative, but all of the ups and downs of this conversation had taken Yukina on a roller coaster. She was not even that good at English, but she understood it all too well. Time and again she wanted to turn it off, tell herself she did not understand what was actually happening, but she could not. She thought about telling Dr. Ash, but what good would that do?

She decided against telling anybody at all. She would not even speak of it to Nonna, who was very obviously manipulating the other Spy. Being as cunning as he was, the other Spy was working hard to keep her off of his back. She thought he must be the cleverest and most well-rounded person she had ever met, to be able to handle Nonna. Even Dr. Ash responded with anger at times when they just could not keep handling Nonna’s manipulative behavior.

This was all very suspect too. To Yukina’s despair, there was no explanation for it all. The conversation fell to small chatter that she could barely understand, before everything went quiet. There was a slam of a door and she could hear the familiar clicking of Nonna’s high heeled boots in an empty hallway over the frequency.

She rushed out of the room, completely forgetting herself. She had to see what was going on. She had to actually see something for herself. When she found the hall Nonna had walked from, the woman had long since gone.

Yukina slipped around the corner with caution, as her heart started to race. She felt a hot panic in her chest, like everything was going to explode. She was almost certain that everything inside of her would explode, if not her heart.

She was moving slowly and carefully, taking quiet steps on bare feet. She was not even sure what she was doing though. She was just heading towards the door she knew that Nonna had left, moving towards the ash scented room. She was not even sure if the Spy was still there anymore.

She turned the door knob and opened it slowly and carefully. The well-oiled hinges made nary a sound, as they swung to a small crack. She immediately stopped as the sound of soft weeping came to her ear. She was sure this could not be it, this could not be the Spy, a proud man who could not possibly be reduced to such a nature.

When she opened it wide enough to peer inside, she caught sight of a hunched figure with his face in his hands. She could barely see him, but the red balaclava gave him away. She wanted to cry for him, and let out a small gasp. She slapped her hand over her mouth and closed the door.

“Who’s there?” she heard the man shout.

Terrified, she scrambled, suddenly losing the ability to grip the floor with her bare feet. She struggled with herself as she tried to run, with the Spy suddenly hot on her heels. Before she had taken a second turn, the man had grabbed and pinned her to a wall. She started to whimper and cry, terrified and ashamed of herself.

“Who are you? What are you doing here? What were you doing?” he questioned angrily.

She could not speak English, all that came out was a babbling of Japanese, “I am so sorry! I am sorry! I didn’t mean to! I’m sorry! I didn’t want to! I’m sorry! Please stop! Please! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

Slowly his grip loosened on her arm as he tried to turn her in a way he could see her face. That was when she became aware that she was not wearing any protective gear, and no mask. Panic hit her like an ocean wave, overtaking her body and making her shake with such fierce power that she could not breathe. All she could see was those steel gray eyes staring back at her, both flabbergasted and uncertain of what he had just found, but still intense as she remembered through her goggles.

This was too close. This was too close for her comfort. Only Dr. Ash and Shelly got this close to her without a mask. And only some of her own teammates came close to her with a simple paper mask on.

She could barely breathe and it was taking a toll on her mind. Everything was starting to spin, and it was getting out of control. She could hear him speak to her in English, but she could not understand it anymore. Eventually, she blacked out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spy and Spy...Clovis vs Nonna...if those are their real names.
> 
> My Art for this story.  
> Resident Team: https://freelancemem.deviantart.com/art/Resident-Team-668516153  
> New Team: https://freelancemem.deviantart.com/art/New-RED-Team-668516631  
> Whole team: https://freelancemem.deviantart.com/art/Men-of-Red-668516818


	22. Little Peacemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yukina had a run in with the Spy that put her in a frightening position. Still, she braves the fear of facing a Spy (and talking to him) to make sure he is doing okay.

Yukina came to with something cold against her head and a strange set of cushions under her back. She wondered where she was, as her eyes searched a dimly lit and large room. She was aware of a fickle sniffle in her nose and a dry itch in her eyes.

“Oh good, you’re awake,” a familiar voice made her heart sink.

Her face was bare. Her nose was tickled by the air. She could only stare at the ceiling and feel the terror fill her chest again.

“You might be ill,” he appeared into her vision, gentle gloved fingers touching the rag on her head. He shifted it, gently rubbing her forehead.

She tried to speak, but nothing came out. She wanted to cry as she laid there, staring up at him with terror.

“I’m not going to do anything to you,” he assured her.

Her lip twitched, trying to speak. She could not bring any of the words in her mind to her tongue. The stress of it bubbled up and brought new tears to her eyes.

“No no, I’m not going to do anything,” he insisted, gently dabbing her cheeks with the rag. He removed it, heading to a sink.

The water running relaxed her a bit. Something about the running water was a restful and peaceful feeling. She took slow and careful breaths, hoping to calm herself to the point of being able to talk to him. Maybe if she kept herself calm she could handle the situation.

He returned, and so did the panic. Her eyes widened a bit as his hand hovered over her, placing a cold rag on her forehead. It was cooling and pleasant, but his presence that close to her face made her feel panicked.

She needed something to put a wall between him and her. She needed a mask to protect her face. She needed something to buffer her from the stranger.

Her hands shot to the rag and spread it immediately over her face. She took slow relaxing breaths, listening to his confused noises at seeing her reaction. But, she held the rag over her face, feeling her body calm slowly.

“Are you alright?” he asked her, “Are you feeling well?”

She barely nodded, but it was still an affirmative nod. She took careful breaths, hoping to work herself up to words. Behind a mask she could have spoken to him, letting him listen to her voice through a walkie talkie and earpiece.

“How about some water?” he offered a clear glass of liquid.

She pushed herself up on her elbows and then up onto her palms, letting the rag fall into her lap. Sitting straight up she accepted the glass to her lips, like a child being tended to by a parent. While the cool refreshing water ran down her throat, she started to forget that the Spy was a stranger there.

When she stopped, he set the glass aside, “Better?”

She nodded slowly, her wits returning to her. She looked up at the Spy cautiously. Without the goggles over her eyes, it was so much easier to see his face, even if it was covered in a mask. She could relate to that though, that need to have one’s face hidden. At that thought, her hands brought the rag back up to her face to cover herself.

“You don’t need to cover yourself,” he insisted.

She gave a barely audible squeak in response. She could not muster enough effort to make words come from her tongue. She could barely make her mouth obey her.

“Who are you?” he asked, “And what are you doing all the way out here in the Badlands?”

It occurred to her that he did not know her. He did not realize that she was the masked RED Pyro, hiding behind the fire retardant suit. He could not know that she was even a teammate, so his first assumption was a civilian.

She let the rag fall from her eyes so she could look at him. The rest of her face was still covered. She became vaguely aware that her hands were shaking over her cheeks, where she held the rag.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was soothing when he spoke, “I just want you to answer honestly.”

She stammered, trying to force out a word. She had to tell him something. Dr. Ash was not there to protect or save her. Shelly was not around to hug her and tell her she was doing just fine. There was nobody there to speak for her.

She took a few shuddering breaths before she tried again. Her voice felt so weak under the pressure of somebody staring at her. It was so terrifying that she wanted to fall silent and die. Maybe she could do that, simply die of fright so she could go to respawn. She would appear in her suit and then she could return to tell him who she was through the walkie talkie.

“Take your time,” his gloved hand patted her leg.

Yukina could not help but draw a similarity between Dr. Ash and this man. Both were patient, with a civil and proper attitude about them. There was something sophisticated about this man that was slightly different from Dr. Ash, but there were enough similarities there for her to become more comfortable.

“My name is Yukina,” she barely managed to say. She was in disbelief that the words left her mouth.

“Yukina?” he did not seem surprised or generally concerned. He reached over to pat her leg again. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Yukina,” he said, in a calm and soothing voice.

She took a breath and let it out with a relieved sigh. She did not know why she was relieved. She knew he was not going to hurt her. He was just trying to help her.

Her heart began pounding too loudly in her chest when he took her hand in his and brought the back of it to his mouth. She recognized this as an old fashion Western way of being a gentleman. It was not a welcome touch though and her hand pulled away almost as soon as she felt his breath against her knuckles. She did not grow up in the West, she grew up in Japan, where nobody, especially not a stranger, would have taken her hand and touched it like that.

“I apologize,” he said reluctantly, “I did not mean to startle you.”

She could not fault him, with his kind nature. He seemed so much nicer than the BLU Spy. All of the Spies seemed like manipulative assholes, competing with each other in secret. They manipulated their own teammates too, Nonna was particularly known for this.

That thought made her face go hot, “Nonna!”

“Nonna?” he was caught off guard by the exclamation, but he did not press much.

She looked up at him with fear. Her body was trembling as she tried to compose her thoughts. She would never get a word out if she could not file her thoughts appropriately.

“You know of the other RED Spy then,” he spoke with a patient voice still.

She tried to gather her courage to speak. She wanted to explain herself, she really did. She just could not gather her wits to the extent of talking to him without a mask to cover her face and protect her.

“Yukina?” she heard Dr. Ash’s voice in the distance. It was like hearing a miracle appearing to her.

“And the Medic,” the Spy strode towards the door.

She heard the door open and the Spy stepped outside. His voice echoed through the halls as he called to the Medic. That was a good sign, maybe he would just hand her off to the professional doctor.

There was a long silence, followed by footsteps. She heard voices, but they were muffled as the door was almost closed. Its latch was not quite in its place. When she peered over the rag, she could see it almost in place, ever so slightly ajar.

A hand pushed the door open and Spy returned, causing her to flinch and throw the rag up, but not before she saw the other figure. She could have cried. She could have guffawed. She could have screamed with utter joy as she leaped to her feet and bounded towards the shorter of the two figures.

The rag fell on her way to Ash’s arms, but she easily buried her face in the doctor’s breast. She stood there bent over, shuddering like a frightened little child, comforted by the warmth of a guardian who served as her parent.

The doctor spoke immediately in Japanese, “There there. It’s alright. Just calm down. What are you even doing down here without your mask on?”

“Glad to see somebody recognizes her,” the Spy quipped in English.

The doctor switched to English as they looked up at him, “Thank you for taking care of the Pyro. I’m not sure how she ended up all the way down here without her uniform.”

“Pyro?” it finally seemed to click for him as he made a sound of revelation, “She’s the Pyro?”

“Yes,” Dr. Ashlynn gently patted and stroked her hair.

“The Pyro,” Spy sounded thoughtful, letting his words trailed off as he wrapped his mind around it, “Makes sense now.”

“Indeed,” she felt Dr. Ashlynn’s head nodding, “Sorry if she has caused you any trouble. She’s terrified of people face to face. Behind a mask she’s usually okay. I’m surprised she didn’t have a worse episode.”

“She did pass out when I caught her,” Spy replied, “For which, I apologize, Pyro.”

Pyro buried her face into the front of the doctor’s waist coat, “It’s okay. I’m Yukina.”

“What?” was his response.

She felt the doctor shift to listen to her more closely, so she repeated her name. “She says her name is Yukina,” the doctor spoke for her.

“Ah, thank you,” Spy cleared his throat, “Again though, I apologize for the fright.”

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to take her and lay her down,” Dr. Ash interrupted.

“Very well. But, if you do not mind, I would like to ask her some questions,” he requested.

“I’m not sure that that’s a good idea,” the Medic responded with hesitation.

“It’s alright, I’ll answer him questions,” Yukina insisted, still pressed to the bosom, “Right now I want a bath and sleep.”

Dr. Ashlynn patted her head affectionately as she always did, “She’d like to answer your questions, after she’s had sleep.”

With that, Dr. Ash wrapped an arm around Yukina and pulled her out of the door. The doctor led her through the base in an awkward manner, with the girl buried against their chest. It felt awkward but comforting, and she was thankful to be back in her room comfortably.

“You need to be more careful about where you wander off to,” Dr. Ash said, half-heartedly scorning her.

She nodded slowly, switching to Japanese, “I heard something. I thought it was-” She cut herself off.

If she explained anything more, then there would be questions and people would likely overhear here. Up here, they were close to Nonna and the others, who could spread word about what Yukina said. And Medic was never very quick to let things go, as they would question everything Yukina said down to the most minute details.

Yukina decided to keep her mouth shut, “I found that I was wrong and shouldn’t have wandered without my suit.”

Satisfied, the doctor smiled and nodded, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll go draw you a bath.”

“Thank you,” she waited until the Medic was gone to relax on the bed.

Drawing a bath would mean a mostly cold scrub of water out of a large bowl in a room they set aside for privacy reasons. The main showers were being used by the men, including their Soldier, John Smith, and that was just too uncomfortable for the women. On top of that, Yukina’s fears of being out of her suit and mask were overbearing as it was, she could not imagine being naked in front of anybody out of her tight knit circle of Medic and Engineer.

Still, it would be nice to relax and talk for a while with the Medic and possibly the Engineer. They had not taken much time to actually talk lately. Recent washes had become fewer and farther between for the others as they had become consumed with their work.

Shelly had become absorbed in this idea of a satellite that she insisted was going to change everything for the mercenaries. Yukina wondered if Alan would help her with that, or if the other Engineer knew what a satellite was even for. Medic had become swamped with taking care of injuries, being more studious than their male counterpart in making sure that every injury was tightly well done. Not that the German was any less perfect in his final results, he was just not as meticulous in making sure that everything fell together in its rightful place.

 

After a comfortable bath and a talk about Japanese things they missed with the Medic, Yukina slipped into her suit. She was quiet as a mouse when she slipped the mask on and tiptoed down the stairs. She did not want anybody to know she was going to visit the Spy, because they might drop by to overhear her answers to his questions. Besides, she had her own questions that she wanted to ask him.

When she arrived, still feeling like she should be quiet, she tapped ever so softly on the wood of the door. She listened intently, hoping that he was still in his smoking room. Surely he would still be there, possibly smoking or reading. It would not be long before he answered either, because he was a gentleman. But this was taking quite a while, unless she was just standing there on the other side of the door from an empty room. Still, if he was not in his room, where else would he be? Surely having the kind of conversation he had had with Nonna had left him quite distraught.

Suddenly the door yanked open. It did not swing very far though, just a couple of inches, before a latch and chain forced it to stop. Part of the Spy’s body appeared, along with his steel eye.

She steeled herself under his gaze, hoping her frightened posture was not given away within the suit. She watched him through the lenses of her goggles, not sure of what to say, or if he would hear her through the suit. He eyed her thoughtfully before slamming the door shut.

She let out a breath she did not know she was holding. Looked like she was unwelcome in the Spy’s abode, and she would be forced to return to her room. If she sauntered back up there now, it was likely she would run into Medic though, and they would have some questions about why she was out of her room, where she would normally be. Perhaps she could use Shelly’s workshop for cover, but then she would have to get Shelly to cover for her, which would drag up more questions.

The sound of latches moving startled her out of her thoughts, until the door opened. He stood to one side, with an arm outstretched in welcome, “Pyro, please come in.”

She hesitated a moment, her heart leaping into her throat. How frightening this was, to be invited in like the gullible child marching into a demon’s den. She felt like she was being drawn into a trap like such.

She managed to make her heavy boots move, one foot in front of the other, until she was in the center of the room. The door closed behind her and the Spy latched it. He was quiet for a while, with only the sound of his leather shoes against the concrete flooring.

He circled around to her front to face her. She cowed away shyly. Her face felt so red hot she could not make herself speak. She might as well have been maskless.

“I won’t be able to understand you through that mask,” he told her.

She shifted, assuring herself that her feet could still move. She glanced over at his lounge chair and pointed to it.

“You want to sit down?” he asked.

She nodded, heading towards it. He strolled around her to the couch that faced it. This was exponentially more uncomfortable for her.

She wondered what Medic would do. Then she thought that the Medic would man up, refuse to let fear eat at them, to face that fear without a second thought. She could not be Medic.

So then she wondered what Shelly would do. Shelly would be smart about everything, thinking twice as fast as her feet could move. Shelly’s mind was like a dancer in motion, moving in ways that you never thought possible. And she decided that if Shelly were in this situation, she would manipulate her surroundings to her benefit, the way she manipulated buildings to create sentries and dispensers.

She got up from the chair and turned it around so that its back was facing the Spy. He was surprised by this and began to rise from the couch. She dropped onto her knees on the seat, keeping her head low so that it did not pop up over the back, for which she was short enough. She slid the mask up far enough to be heard.

“Please don’t look at me,” she said hastily.

She heard him sit back down on the couch. She could hear his breathing, quiet but rushed with uncertainty. Why he would be startled or uncertain, when she was in _his_ domain, she had no idea.

“Alright then,” there was a bit of noise as he shifted on the couch, “Is this how we are going to talk now?”

“Yes,” she replied shakily.

He sighed, “This is odd and arbitrary.”

“It is the way I know how to speak to people,” she told him, biting back a tear of shame. Nobody truly understood her fear, that terrifying sensation of being looked at, as if the soul was being torn bare for a stranger.

“You will answer my questions then?” he asked.

“I will cooperate,” she told him, “As long as you answer mine.”

He hesitated at that, shifting on the couch again. She was not sure if she should start or just wait for him. She could not see him from this angle, since he could not get a look at her face. She was not the type of person to interrogate somebody either, or ask questions of a stranger. Strangers were best left alone.

“I uh…will answer honestly,” she promised.

“Thank you,” she heard the familiar click of a lighter and the smell of a cigarette.

“You’re going to smoke?” she asked, wetting her lips with her tongue.

“It’s a smoking room,” he noted.

“Oh. Right…” she fumbled with her words, while she curled up against the back of the chair. She felt like a defenseless child trying to use the soft cushions on the chair as her defense.

“So…your name…is Yukina? You are…Japanese?” he asked with hesitation.

“Yes,” she was surprised that he was asking about her. She was certain that he would have started out asking her what she knew.

“And you are the team’s Pyro?” he added.

“Yes,” she said breathily.

“I assume you are close to the uh…your team’s Medic?” he asked.

“Yes,” she repeated, “But also the Engie.”

There was a brief silence before he spoke again, “You are terrified of people?”

“Not people,” she protested, “Just…just of people…looking at me.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. “I feel so bare to the world. But when I have my mask on, I feel safe.”

“What made you this way?” he asked.

That question hurt a lot. It was a question she had heard many times. She had heard it from family members, friends, coworkers and enemies alike. She had heard it various times from the enemy Medic Beatrice, and she especially hated it from friends. Still, she steeled herself and reminded herself that Dr. Ashlynn would tell her to understand their point of view in misunderstanding her pain.

“I don’t know, I have always been this way,” she explained, “That is why Dr. Ash came into my life. To protect and heal me. I haven’t come far, but they still believe in me.”

“Dr. Ash…” the rolled the name over his tongue.

She flinched at giving away the name, “Please don’t tell that I told you that.”

“Secret keeping is my best talent,” he stated.

“So then…may I ask you something,” she licked her lips again, reminded of what she wanted to ask him in turn.

“Ask away,” he said, patiently.

She cleared her throat, wanting her voice to sound stronger, “Is it…is…is it true what Nonna said? Those things she said?”

There was another brief silence before he spoke, “What?”

“Your…your name is Clovis?” she asked.

“I’m not answering this,” he growled.

“I…I didn’t…” she buried her face into the back of the chair when she heard him rise. Her heart started racing so fast and so hard that she could not think straight. She stayed like that for a while, until she convinced herself to pull away and talk. “I don’t mean any harm to you, I swear,” she insisted, staring intensely at the leather of the chair, “I only…I don’t…”

“What did you come here to accomplish?” he demanded, angrily.

“P-please…” she pushed her forehead to the cushion, scared to look up, lest he could see her from his height. She was not sure if he could see over the back of the chair, maybe the was that tall.

“You were spying and you’re going to pay consequences for that,” his voice was not quite a growl, but it still sounded threatening.

“Please let me explain,” she begged. She could feel tears burning her eyes.

“Then please, enlighten me,” he growled this time.

She took a deep breath, “I help Shelly clean the ear pieces. When she works in the workshop, I help keep those little things clean and working. I was checking the dial when I tuned in-into what was Nonna’s earpiece. She must have left it on by accident…because it wouldn’t have sent anything otherwise. It did not broadcast, so nobody else with the earpieces heard it. I already checked, and nobody else was even paying attention to their earpieces. But…”

“Get to the point,” he barked at her.

She flinched against the couch, “I wanted to be sure you were okay. That was the point.”

He was silent for a long time. He did not say anything. She was curious about peeking over the couch, but too scared to do so. She would not be able to handle a glare down with no mask on.

“I knew Nonna was…manipulative…but I didn’t know she was that sadistic,” she told him, “I…I didn’t tell anybody what I heard though. Not even Medic knows. I just came down here…because she was cruel…and there was nobody you could have turned to when she left you like that.”

“That’s why you were spying by my door?” he asked, his tone tentative.

“Y-yes,” she nodded, as if he could see her, “I felt…I felt compelled to make sure you were alright.”

“I don’t need your pity,” he said quickly.

“Nor do I need yours,” she spoke softly.

“Then what is your purpose of being down here, Pyro?” he asked.

“To…um…” she dared to move upwards, until her eyes found the top of the couch.

Spy was at the alcohol bar. He was leaning over the glass with ice and gold liquid he had poured himself. His palms were placed against what looked like a cool surface. He did not look okay.

“To make a friend,” she said, putting some strength behind her words.

He turned to look at her and she immediately dropped down. She was too scared to meet his gaze, even from this distance.

“And please,” she added, “Call me Yukina. Yuki even.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one took so long. I wanted to get this scene right. Yukina's condition is one I think most people would not easily understand/empathize with. I wanted to describe how she would feel in a fitting manner, without simply adding physical symptoms, which are what people seem to look for in mental illness.  
> I love this little Pyro.  
> Updated link: https://freelancemem.deviantart.com/art/Yukina-The-Pyro-behind-the-RED-mask-668513383


	23. Trouble in the Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The show's producer is getting antsy about Miss Pauling's projects.

Shaking hands held tightly to the fluttering paperwork. What was Pauling doing, being so afraid? She tried to pull herself together, but she nearly fell apart again. She had been such a proud and courageous individual once upon a time, able to face mercenaries and the threat of permanent death. Now she freaked out whenever she was threatened.

“Miss Pauling! I don’t want to see this dribble!” Gray Mann growled with distaste, “I want ratings! I want to see sales go up! Merchandise needs to sell in order for profits to make this worth its turn!”

“I understand that Mr. Mann,” she cleared her throat.

“Then why isn’t it happening?” the boss demanded, angrily slamming his fist into the desk.

“Sir, these things take time. We’re currently advertising and networking to gather the broader audience,” she explained to him, “This will all take time as they become attracted to this new set up.”

“All I see are your plans, Miss Pauling,” he growled, with disdain.

“And they will all come to fruition, if you will let me have time,” she explained to him, her hands still shaking, “The Mann Co Productions series has been known for its violent and gorey nature. It does not exactly appeal to a wide demographic. This separate showing of the drama part of it should allow for a wider spread appeal. The current generation is very into diversity, gender identity, sexual tension and even gayness.”

“Gayness,” Gray Mann growled, “Pah!”

Pauling tightened her grip on the papers in her hand. She had fought with him for a decade and a half at least on this particular subject. It was not the first time they came across mercenaries with homosexual feelings and intimate tendencies towards coworkers. The man had been against it, all of it, even the stuff that was heterosexual. He wanted no sexual stuff, even innuendos were off base, and nothing that could conceivably detract from the pure gorey violence.

“With the largely growing **LGBTQ** community in today’s society, we would be hard pressed to stay in business if we did not in some way try to incorporate something from their group,” she told him, “Leaving them out takes the appeal from them. If you lose their viewership, it will be for naught.”

“I don’t care about that **LGQT** what’s it community…I only care about results!” he bellowed.

“And as that community grows, so does your viewership shrink,” she explained to him, with as much patience as she could muster. He was practically as old as a tortoise and still had enough breath to keep on living, which also meant that his mind remained in a constant state of being an old mean man. “Your results will be the reverse if we do not go in the direction of incorporating gendered issues and sexual identity crises.”

He harrumphed loudly and leaned back in his chair. He looked up at the screen, where the silent video feed showed the RED team’s infirmary. The Medics were talking, slowly and uncertainly. Still, they were carefully putting together some little shred of a friendship, something that was forming in between them. Or at least, that was what Pauling hoped was happening.

It would not be the first failure to match counterparts. It was very difficult to make things work out. Playing match maker had its drawbacks, but letting things happen on their own just did not work.

When things just sort of cropped up, it was usually easier. Those kind of things fell into Eldrich Mann’s chain of shows, as well as Sharon Mann’s chain. Gray Mann was still a producer of several large shows though, having very well kept up a very violent and gruesome type of war, be it with brute force of mighty mercenaries, or a cunning wit of keeping those mercenaries on their toes.

“I don’t want to see these shows fail,” he admitted, “But I want to see something good. I want to see something that will bring in the viewers. There is no point in doing any of this, if it’s a bunch of shit!”

He paused looking over her look of distraught. He shook his head slowly and sighed.

“I know you have put your heart into this whole thing,” he commented, “But this one is my show. This one is just one of the ones I am not willing to allow to fall to poor selection.”

“I understand sir,” she nodded in agreement, “I’ll be sure to spread the word and hurry this along.”

“In the meantime,” he turned his attention, his eyes flickering up to the screen.

His hand reached for the remote and he flicked over to the live feed of the RED base’s smoking room. There was a single camera there, which currently fixated on the resident RED Spy. Miss Pauling looked on with a feeling of deep regret in her heart, seeing that look of despair in the way the Spy was holding his head in his hands, with his elbows on his knees. He looked so broken.

“It seems that some things are going awry here?” he inquired.

“We had a minor setback,” she admitted, carefully, “But we have taken care of it. At this time, our handlers are cleaning up the situation.”

“Oh?” he pressed, steepling his fingers.

“At this time, the handler is doling out new instructions,” Miss Pauling explained, “And everything will go on as is.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash was removing shrapnel from Smith’s leg when they realized that there was a presence missing. They looked around the room, searching for some other person, but there was nobody there. It was like jumping for a ghost that did not exist or something, they could not explain it. They were not sure what exactly they were even looking for.

“Medic,” Smith grumbled drowsily.

“Just lie still, Soldier,” they patted his shoulder, before returning to the work on his leg.

He had a whole week’s worth of shrapnel and bullets embedded into his body from being bombastically stupid on the battlefield today. Why he did this, they were unsure. Still, they pressed on with their work of removing all of the hardware from his system.

The doors clacking open caught their ear, and they spun around. They found Sven looking over at them with a peculiar curiosity in his eye. Behind him was the Heavy Weapons guy, who waved with a shy little smile.

Ash smiled back, “Ah, hello.” They turned back to their work, busying their hands with the blood that was oozing out a little too quickly from Smith’s leg. “I’m just trying to fix the Soldier here,” they told the newcomers.

Demyan chuckled, “Quiet Soldier is brave man. Should not follow other Soldier’s orders so much.”

Ash threw the Soldier a curious glare, who smiled back at them sheepishly. He seemed to be guilty of what the Heavy was talking about. The other Medic in the room started chuckling at the suggestion though.

“He orders around everyone!” Sven laughed, “If anybody followed his instructions, nobody would get anything done!”

Ash shook their head and chuckled, “He seems the bombastic and proud Soldier.”

“A Marine if I remember correctly,” Sven noted.

“You can work on that one. I’ll stick to the Navyman,” Ash patted Smith’s stomach, signifying who the Navyman was.

“Are you avoiding the other Soldier, doctor?” Sven asked, curiously.

Ash felt a bit of heat rise to their face. How crude a thought though. To avoid a patient when one was called upon would be a brash and poorly calculated move on their part. Ash could not call oneself smart in battle for being as stupid as to avoid a Soldier.

“Not at all,” they argued.

“I’ve never once seen little Medic heal American Soldier,” the Heavy noted.

Sven chuckled at that, “I can’t even tell the difference between the Soldiers on the battlefield, if I’m honest.”

Ash glanced around to find that Sven had walked up behind them. He was studying their handiwork, the way somebody might admire a piece of art to be criticized. They quickly returned to a closer focus on the cuts they were making around the shrapnel.

“There are lots of things different between them,” Ash argued on Smith’s behalf.

“Da,” Demyan agreed, “This Soldier is quiet. He does not speak much, but he has big smile. Does open salute, like this.” He raised his hand to his forehead, pressing the back to his forehead. “Our Soldier is loud, likes American things, and corrects this Soldier’s salute.”

“That would be because your Soldier is an _American Marine_ , while this one is an _English Navyman_ ,” Ash explained.

“English?” Demyan’s eyebrows rose.

“Would explain the effeminate voice and the accent I hear he has,” Sven commented.

“You heard?” Ash gave him a questioning rise of the eyebrow.

“I am uncertain as to who heard it and where, but somebody said it was something about a strange voice that came from the soldier,” he explained.

“Well,” Ash glanced at the Soldier’s face. They had mostly forgotten that he was still awake – under the influence of a lot of pain narcotics, but still awake.

Smith’s face was completely red, “Don’t have to make such a fuss about it. Besides, I can hear everything you’re talking about. I’m not deaf you know. It’s not a complacency under which I am silent, just the lack of need to speak. On the contrary to my existence in relative quiet, I am not subject to a level of intelligence that is beneath somebody who has not learned beyond a fourth grader’s level. I choose simply not to speak so that I am not mistaken and – be it forbidden – made a fool of, for the contradictory voice and nationality that is my origin. But take it your Soldier heard me, he would think me neither American nor equal, but rather a foreigner on the wayside with a lack of understanding and compassion for American things. But don’t mistake me there, I love America and Ameican things, it is simply difficult to get that into them when I still have a love for my home country and its flag. Granted, I could not – cannot – tell the other Soldier of all people why my voice is so high, I am only able to speak to him in small bursts because he doesn’t put the pieces all together. And that is why, my dear friend, I remain in relative silence, and let the rest speak for me.”

Ash was pinching the bridge of their nose halfway through the whole speech. Half of it was nonsense and repetitive, but that was just the way Smith spoke. He was intelligent enough to say that, but not enough to know that people around him were not in a position of understanding what he was talking about. So on and on he went until he finally shut up and let the Medic return to their work.

“Are you a parrot?” Sven suddenly asked.

That made Smith laugh. The boisterous laughter caused him to shake and move his legs. Incidentally, that caused Ash’s scalpel to stab right into his artery. The splash of blood in their face blinded them. If not for their glasses, they were sure they would have needed to wash their eyes out. Thankfully there was a sink nearby, so Ash could just wash the blood off their glasses and face.

“Doctor, would you kindly deal with this a moment while I run water over my eyes?” Ash moved instinctively to where the sink was, searching with their hands.

They felt a large hand take their shoulder, directing them towards the counter. Behind them they could hear the other Medic taking control of the operation of the Soldier. In front of them, they heard the water turn on, and reached out to run it over their hands. They rubbed their hands together, struggling to remove all of the sticky gooey body fluid from their hands before scrubbing their face.

“Doctor is all clean now,” Demyan said, handing them a towel.

“Thank you, Heavy,” Ash scrubbed their face and hands until they were dry.

“I am sorry to say that the incident put Smith in a bad position,” Sven spoke up, “He’s going to respawn.”

Ash sighed and looked over at the body on the table. They would have to keep Smith from socializing next time they were working on him. That would be for next time.

“That could have gone better,” Sven noted, when Ash did not speak up.

“You’re right,” Ash nodded in agreement.

“Alert! A BLU Spy is in the base!” the Administrator announced.

Ash looked tiredly at her colleagues, then up to the speakers, “Are you serious?”

“Alert! A BLU Scout is in the base!” the Administrator added.

“Nooo,” Ash groaned.

“Doctor stay here,” Demyan patted Ash’s head in passing, “There are enough to kill little Spy and little Scout.”

Ash sighed and watched the Heavy stomp out of the infirmary. They exchanged a glance with Sven, who did not look the least bit worried. Ash gave a heavy sigh, relieved that they would not be expected to join in hunting down the mercenaries that had entered the RED base.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not know why this one took me so long. I guess i have just gotten caught up in other projects. I have not discarded this story, i promise. I will see it to its end.


	24. Spy in the Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A BLU Spy called "Fish" gets into the RED Base. She is not after what they all think.

“What a pathetic existence you must lead,” an unfriendly voice interrupted Adaliz’s thoughts.

She spun about, her hand going for her bat. She did not have time to draw it, finding her throat at the tip of a very sharp point. Intimidated, she froze, not wanting it to slice through her jugular or open her trachea.

“S-spy,” she muttered, as she looked up at the BLU Spy called Fish.

“Aww, poor shy little girl,” the Swedish Spy taunted, her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed in a coy smirk.

“I’m not shy!” Adaliz barked, angrily.

“No need to be a dog, little cat,” the Spy chuckled, “I’m just here for some information.”

“Go to hell, you eel!” Adaliz growled.

“So cute,” Fish snickered, “But, I’m here for the fox. She’s been rather naughty, poking her nose in other peoples’ holes and making trouble. Would you even know what she was stirring up? I wonder what she would share with a foolish little Scout though.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Adaliz spat, trying to put up some form of defense.

“Well, do you know what she’s been seeing the BLU Pyro about? Hmm?” Fish quirked an eyebrow at her.

“What? Yea! Like, she tells me everything!” Adaliz spat. She immediately regretted saying that when the knife point pushed harder against her neck.

“Oh really? Never were very bright, kattunge,” Fish snickered, “Tell me what you know of the BLU Pyro.”

“Fuck you! I’m not telling you shit! And don’t spit your Swedish at me!” Adaliz yelled.

Fish’s hand lurched at her, snatching her ponytail before she could get away. The point of the knife turned into the edge of the blade, cutting into the first layer of skin. Fish stepped closer, moving herself into Adaliz’s personal space.

“You’re going to regret your rough tongue if you don’t watch it more closely, kitty,” Fish glared down at her haughtily, “Before you lose that tongue, you might start talking about what I want to know.”

“The fuck do you want! Get away from me!” Adaliz tried to push her. Before she realized her error, the blade ripped through her throat and she fell to the floor clutching at her neck. She was not sure what to do but lie there, as she bled out.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nonna stepped around the corner and blew out the smoke. She frowned at Adaliz’s body, as she watched Fish walk by. It was such a low blow for her to bring the helpless, ignorant Scout into all of this. Fish knew of all people the Scout would be the last person to know about anything important. Nonna would never tell Adaliz such important information, not because she could not trust her, but because she could not risk it either way.

Nonna followed her, under guise of the invis watch, just to see what Fish would do next. Perhaps she should just stab her, but there was always the need for mischievous work for the views. It was her job to make sure that the cameras were getting juicy scenes to work with, after all. If nothing came of it, she had to make something dramatic and juicy. Given she worked with so many dramatic women, she figured her job was not so hard, not like Alan’s job.

She followed Fish through the hallway, until she was met with Alan and Shelly. Both Engineers were snarling, raising their shotguns to the BLU Spy’s head level. She was undaunted though, glaring down at them haughtily.

“See you in hell, snake!” Alan growled.

“And don’t come back!” Shelly added.

Fish snickered, pulling her opening her deadringer behind her back, “Indeed.” Two shots went off and the Spy disappeared, leaving behind a fake body.

Nonna rolled her eyes, proceeding carefully around the two Engineers. They were studying the body, unsure whether to freak out that perhaps the Spy had used a deadringer. But, now she had to handle the tricky part, which was following an invisible Spy. Listening carefully, she tried to detect the other woman’s heels, but it was difficult to follow, as the sneaky Spy had learned how to go undetected.

Nonna herself was wearing some high heel boots, and she found stepping quietly to be a bit more difficult. She gave herself a mental kick as she moved carefully through the hallways. She had to run into the other Spy sooner or later. The woman had used a deadringer, so that timer had to be going down. Then again, Nonna was using an invis watch, and the timer was starting to go down as well.

She stepped into a side room, hoping that Fish was not lingering long enough to hear the decloak. She stood still as she waited for the timer to go back up. She was impatient though, nearly leaping out of hiding the moment she was able to put the cloak back up.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Cletis smirked when he heard the familiar decloak of a Spy nearby. He lifted himself up, straightening his back and trying to make himself look a bit bigger than he was. With only one eye, his face was not that pleasant to look at, but he had plenty else to offer.

“Wasn’t expecting a visit from you,” he smirked to himself as he rose from what he was doing.

But when he turned to confront the offending Spy, he was surprised to see a woman dressed in BLU. He was not sure he recognized this Spy though. The only reason he could tell that she was a woman was her curves that gave off a pleasantly feminine figure, but not at all like the RED Spy, Nonna. He was not sure what to make of this enemy.

“Eh?” he blinked at her, dumbfounded at the sight of the masked woman.

“Hum, seems I lost the Spy,” she pulled out a switchblade, “But I’ve got another fool RED to deal with.”

“Pardon me, but who-?” he did not get to finish his sentence as she threw the knife. Something felt familiar, tickling at his memory, leaving him with some memory of the French Scout yelling _fish_ without explanation of why.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Yukina waved as the other Pyro passed her by. Seemed silly to trace the steps they had covered, but maybe he missed something. After all, the other Pyro was going down the way they had seen her come from, so it stood to reason that they were double checking each other’s steps, just in case. They could not let some stupid Spy creep in.

She moved down the hallway until she came to the fork. One way opened to a courtyard where the Scouts liked to hit balls and explosives with their bats. She imagined it was just starting to get outside now, so neither of them would be out there. But then to the right, where the other Pyro came from, was a path that led down to the resident team’s rooms. The other path led down to the showers, or at least she thought that was the case, after all there seemed to be a lot of steam in this area and she sometimes heard echoing voices in this area when she passed by. She would never go down there though, they were men and she did not belong there.

She was startled by the sound of a scream. That scream was familiar, being from the deep brogue of the Demoman. She hefted her flame thrower and darted towards the rooms, intent on finding out what had happened to him.

When she reached the near end of the hall, she came upon a precariously open door. It did not seem to have any purpose being open, it was just partially swung open. It seemed rude to just peek inside, so she hesitated. She was not sure if the scream had come from this room or if it would be right to try and barge in to help him anyways.

She was both startled and relieved when she felt a Spy. The bump was momentary and she only had moments to react to the evidence of a Spy in her area. She had trained through years of doing this job though, and she reacted by putting her back to the wall and spraying everywhere the Spy could be.

Fish gave out a shrill cry and started running up the hallway to escape the flames. Yukina chased after her, intent on ending the Spy before she could cause trouble. No Spies should be causing troubles around here. It was bad enough that poor Clovis was being blackmailed by Nonna. RED Spies should be sticking together, right?

But now Fish was here. What a terrible mix she was to add to everything. They were just here trying to enjoy their time outside of work, and Fish was trying to make their day more difficult. That thought inspired Yukina to run as fast as she could, following the trail of smoke emanating from the Spy.

She was not half so fast as the unburdened Swede though. The fire went out before it could kill her and the smoke dissipated until Yukina was not sure where she had gone. Fish was gone from sight and Yukina could not detect her. Maybe she was off to cause more trouble for another person, now that she had been chased off of the bedroom areas. But who was she targeting next?

Yukina decided to check on the Engineers first. A little ball of worry formed in her chest as she thought about Shelly getting hurt because she could not move as fast as the unhindered Spy. Fish had both of her legs, like Yukina did. Shelly was good at using her legs, but sometimes Yukina worried about the woman with her prosthetic.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Sofia stayed close to Jules as they made their way down the stairs and into the hallway. They passed the mess hall in silence, listening intently for the Spy. It seemed unlikely that the Spy would _not_ attack at least one of them. That was a pattern that both Snipers had found about Spies attacking the base. The Spy class just seemed to become drawn to the Sniper class.

It was not to say that Sofia was cowardly. Rather, she thought it was much smarter of them to stick together. They had been shooting for target practice when they heard the alarm go off, so they both knew that the other was not the Spy.

As long as her friend was by her side, she was safe for the most part. She might be able to get through this after hours attack without another death. Why did this job promise nine-to-five hours with Spies choosing to come in and attack at odd hours? It was a foolish thing to think that such a job would let them rest, but that was the reality of being a mercenary, wasn’t it?

Only minutes ago, they had been chatting quite a bit. Jules had become a bit chattier today, much to Sofia’s relief. She had been worried that he had become a recluse within himself, and she thought that was just not healthy. But, now he was talking and happy and pleasant when they were shooting for practice.

That was except for this moment, where they strode through the halls in search of a Scout and a Spy. Scouts were pretty easy to avoid. Even the Asian Scout was easy enough to avoid if one had an AK47 on hand. With the rifle strapped to her opposing shoulder, Sofia carried the AK47 at the ready, not wanting to give that guy the chance to get the jump on her.

The Spy was the trickiest class though. Being invisible much of the time on the battlefield made them difficult to track. And being able to disguise as other people made them even deadlier. Somebody like Fish was the deadliest, as they were trained in the art of knowing the target and the target’s closest companions. Fish knew how to disguise as all eight of her teammates, and she had probably already gotten quite a bit of practice at disguising as the nine resident mercenaries too.

The other BLU was good, but he had yet to get to know Sofia. He tried, but he failed at pretending to be the wanna-be-masculine Medic. He failed at playing at the pals ploy, disguised as Lucy – he had the accent down but not her level of sassiness. He even tried disguising as the Pyro and failed at that – how does one simply fail at pretending to be a playful and childish Japanese girl?

“He’s been through here,” Jules’ growl pulled her out of thought.

She blinked down at the body of the Pyro. She could not tell which one it was though, because they were not moving around and being themselves. That was what made them who they were, not their faces but their behaviors. Either way, it was a little sad to see a sweet Pyro sprawled on the floor.

“I reckon he’s out to get our intelligence?” Jules hefted his gun, ready to shoot at the next person to round the corner.

Sofia rolled her eyes, “Gee. You think?”

Jules gave her a look and she regretted saying that. Jules did not take sarcasm too well. She should have learned that by now. The resident Spy seemed to be the only person who could get away with saying things like that around him.

“I-” his voice cut off at the sound as a gasp escaped his throat. His body tensed, before he collapsed, unable to fight the injury in his back.

“Oh dear,” Fish’s familiar voice caused Sofia to spin. She was too late to aim as the woman turned invisible. “You got blood on my suit.”

Sofia aimed for where she heard the voice and let out the entire clip. Panic filled her as her hands moved hurriedly to replace the clip with a fresh round. She had no idea why she was shaking so much, as this was her day to day job.

The knife came into her back and everything came to life to her senses. The shooting pain took up all of her thought processes, even the ones about the gun in her hand. When she regained power over her thoughts, her mind went straight to the panic she had been in. She had frozen there, instead of moving around the way she normally would. Her clip had not even gotten in when she was stabbed, she had been stuttering with her hand and that had slowed down the process of getting the new clip into the gun. Most of all, she thought about how none of this was normal, and how she suddenly craved life without this.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“We must be diligent! We must be alert! The enemy could be anywhere! Do you hear me, cupcake?!” John Doe was yelling in his face.

John Smith had no idea why this man tended to yell. Maybe it was an American thing. Then again, Tanner the Scout was American and he was not this loud, he was just boastful and obnoxious. Maybe Americans just thought they needed to be obnoxious and did so in any way they could.

“You do not let that intelligence out of your sight!” John Doe yelled, beginning to pace the room, “You don’t even let that snail sucking frog into this room!”

“Soldier!” Tanner interrupted.

“What?” John Doe turned to the younger mercenary abruptly.

“What if it’s not the guy?” Tanner asked, with a bit of jest in his voice, “What if it’s the girl.”

John Smith chuckled a bit at this. He found this pretty funny. He figured the others would not think that so funny, they were a bit sensitive to being defined by gender or whatever. Smith was okay with his gender. By all accounts, both of the BLU Spies were okay with their genders and being called male or female. So what was the matter?

“Then she will taste my boot!” John Doe yelled.

“She’s not a Frenchie,” Scout chuckled, hopping down from his perch on the desk, “She’s from…some other place in Europe, right?”

Smith nodded in response. Fish was the only Swedish person he had met outside of Britain – other than in Sweden of course. She probably got picked on a lot for it, and did not have many people to talk to in her native tongue. At least as a Spy she spoke a lot of languages, so she could find lots of people to talk to in other languages.

“Regardless! We will taste victory!” John Doe announced.

John Smith chuckled at him. He felt a little awkward though, blushing as he tried to focus not on Doe but on the task at hand. He was the most experienced mercenary present, so he needed to help them.

“No time to lose!” John Doe announced, “We have a filthy snake to find!”

John Smith nodded and cocked his gun upward in response. He followed the other Soldier’s lead, as they headed down the hallway. Tanner darted off ahead of them, being too impatient to keep at their pace.

 

*********************************************************************

 

A howl caught Lucy’s attention. She quirked an eyebrow as she listened intently. That sounded like it was Cletis, but she could not be entirely sure. She was not listening too carefully, and hiding her drunkenness under the guise of coffee was not working. So much for a sober lifestyle, she just wanted to enjoy a few drinks, but it seemed that the Spy class was willing to disturb even the little time any of the mercenaries had to enjoy.

Lucy kept both eyes open and ready for an attack. She had a sticky gun in one hand and a portable mug of coffee in the other. She was not sure how she would fight off a Spy in this condition, so she just hoped that she never ran into the sneaky class. Maybe Nonna would find them first.

She rounded a corner, just in time to see a Pyro go around the corner down the hallway. “Hey Pyro!” she called out, trotting in hopes to catch up.

Sticking to a fire starter was the best idea, since they could easily check for Spies. She figured she would be safest if she stayed close to either one of them. Not to mention, she could pay more attention to sobering up.

She rounded the corner, just in time for something to land in between her should blades. She cried out in pain and closed her eyes. She could not quite wrap her head around what was happening, given the drunkenness. She was not used to this much alcohol in her system lately, so she started to feel dizzy. Maybe it was because of the alcohol that she fell to the ground too.

 

*********************************************************************

 

A loud knocking came at the door and Clovis rolled his eyes. What a pain to deal with people. Of course they figured he would be out there hunting for somebody who was also hiding. That was the Sniper’s job, was it not?

The door opened without his bidding, so he turned to see the Scout. The boy looked like he was pissed off. He raised a hand to shake a pointed finger at him.

“What the hell man? We’re all out here trying to find this snake and you’re in here doing what?!” the Scout spat angrily.

Clovis raised a questioning eyebrow but nothing more. He gently raised a cigarette to his lips, calmly puffing on the smoke. He let it fill his lungs, in spite of all the blond Medic’s worry about his health.

He had expected the boy to confront him at some point, this was true. But, there was something off about this. Of all the times the boy had confronted him, it was never when something needed to be done. The Scout was a class that should be at the forefront of this situation, with the Soldier and the Heavy.

“What exactly are you doing here then, Scout?” he inquired, with patient movements, as he removed the cigarette from his mouth.

“Trying to figure out why the hell our team’s falling apart!” the youth exclaimed.

“Very good, but that is a question for later, is it not?” Clovis bluffed.

He started to stroll towards the cabinet where he kept his alcohols. He kept an eye on the youth though. He did not want him to escape attention for even a moment. He was sure there was something going on, and he was already hunching that there was a knife involved.

“Uh…no!” the Scout exclaimed, with frustration, “Like, what’s wrong with you?”

He patiently poured himself a drink as he listened. The Scout was acting a bit more obnoxious than his usual self. If the Spy did not know the younger man for so long, and had not studied his usual behavior, he would have been fooled. He was sure most would be fooled, because of the obnoxious way the American behaved.

“It is funny,” the Spy chuckled.

“What? The thing that is the matter with you?” the Scout asked, tilting his head.

Spy flinched, not expecting such an obvious and dead giveaway. He had never seen somebody react like that, especially not the Scout. He was not expecting that weird curious tilt of the head and the mix up jumbling of English words that did not fit the Scout’s dialect. After all, decades of being around the same people does not kill one’s mother tongue.

“Your lack of experience with the Scout shows,” he stated, bluntly.

Blue smoke surrounded the Scout as he changed to somebody a bit taller. She shrugged in response, her smug look a bit foolish in her current situation. He figured she probably thought she had fooled him up to the point that she gave herself away with curiosity.

“Americans are fun to imitate though,” the BLU chuckled, “So obnoxious.” There was a long pause, as the BLU shifted around from foot to foot. “Shall we dance then?”

“If you were here for dancing, you would have brought better shoes,” Clovis stated, pointing at her clog-like shoes. They were hardly fit for an upper-class Spy.

“A few questions to answer then, maybe?” she offered, her Swedish accent slurring through her words.

He hesitated, lifting his drink to his mouth, “Speak your questions then.”

His free hand laid on the table. Little did she know about a little button he kept behind the whiskey bottle. It was tucked behind there, under a small plastic cover that was made to look like a paper weight. With a little playing, fiddling with it like he was absent-minded, he managed to move it out of the way and press the button. It connected to a camera he had hidden in this room, and it would record the following conversation.

“How is it that you have been settling in with this new RED Spy?” she inquired, as if making pleasant conversation.

“She is nosier than she is slutty,” he stated, with a bit of acid on his tongue.

She nodded a little bit, with a humored look in her eyes and smile, “Nonna is not the type to let people be, is she? I would say it is our class, but she has a habit of making trouble. Doesn’t she?”

“To what end are you questioning?” Clovis asked, hoping to forego further wasteful questioning.

“I want to know what she is up to,” she stated, “Don’t you?”

“It would look poorly on my work experience if I did not _already_ know,” he stated. It was a bit of a bluff, claiming to know everything the other Spy was up to.

The BLU Spy chuckled hotly, “Bet you are just as curious as to why she is betraying her team to the Builders League United. Aren’t you?”

He gave her a haughty look, as if her words meant nothing. He would not give her any of the satisfaction of having given him information. Still, he wanted to milk all of the information she might have.

“How much does the little blue bird know?” he inquired.

“Quite a bit,” the woman folded her hands in front of herself, “In fact, I’ve seen her meetings.”

“I am aware that she has met with the BLU Pyro,” Clovis stated in an irritated growl. This was not new information and she was just wasting his time.

“And the RED Engineer, yes I am aware of that too,” she stated, with dismissive irritation, “No, I am referring to her little meetings with Miss Pauling.”

That was new. Miss Pauling was an assistant, a sweet young woman, and hesitant to act like a mercenary. That was very unlike her. And to hide something from a Spy? Of course, she often hid things from Spies, but he could not believe her being able to actually get away with hiding something from him. She was simply not clever enough for that, and with none of the training either.

“How about we make a truce?” she offered, “A pact between Spies for the sake of gaining intel that is important to both of us.”

He hesitated for thought. This was a dangerous game. The woman across from him was likely as deadly as the woman he worked with. Still, he had to figure out what was going on, and a pact was the closest thing to gaining information from other Spies as he could get.


	25. Sssssssspies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's not RED against BLU, it's Spies against Spy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has taken me so long to get to this story. I have been working on brainstorming its ending. I have alternate ideas, but I am not entirely decided on how I want it to end.

Panic hit Nonna as she made her way through the halls under cloak. She had lost the Spy and she still could not find her. She was not sure what would happen if she did not find that Spy in time. She could be getting into any kind of mischief, knowing Fish well enough.

When she heard the alarm shut off, she stopped in her tracks. That meant the Spy was gone. She had left, or she had been killed. One way or another, Nonna had failed at her mission to apprehend the Spy herself. She growled, frustrated at the thought.

This was just another blow at her pride though. It would pass, she was sure. She had to keep her eyes peeled and her ears open for any damage she might have caused. It was not an uncommon occurrence for Fish to decide to try and capture a briefcase in the middle of the night, but that did not take into account the recent events and the current situation. She had to be sure she did not cause any damage.

She was walking swiftly down another hallway when she heard footsteps come around a corner behind her. She paused briefly to glance back at the other RED Spy. Clovis was fuming as he came around the corner. He looked ready to tear somebody limb from limb without concern for the team.

“You!” he roared at her.

“Hmm?” stumped, her eyes flitted around to the hallway around her, planning a route of escape in case this got out of hand.

“I am done with you!” he growled with disdain.

She flinched, backing away. She never thought a Spy would get the nerve to confront somebody like this. But perhaps she had simply never met a Spy like him. It was not like all Spies got together in a conference to discuss how they behave.

“Don’t do anything rash,” she put up her hands defensively, “Or anything you might regret.”

“No, I won’t regret this,” he said, charging at her.

She yelped and turned tail. She had not expected a Spy to charge at her, bullheaded like a Heavy. This was like nothing she had ever experienced before. Any other mercenary, she would have simply cloaked and sidestepped, taking up the odds that they would miss her. This thought came late to her mind as she stumbled out a door, intending to lose him out by the sheds.

“Why am I running?” she asked, raising her wrist to turn on the cloak. The world went black too suddenly for her to know what was going on.

 

She woke to the lulling hum of a vehicle. Her head hurt and she felt too tired to open her eyes properly. Remembering the alarm she had felt before the attack, she forced her eyes open. Based on the carpet beneath her and the metal hatch overhead, she was locked in the trunk of a car – a moving car.

The car seemed to be moving very fast too. She could feel it bump along the road with almost haphazard speed. It was not taking certain bumps – which might as well have been ditches to her throbbing head – into account as it made its hurried way along what sounded like a dirt road.

She tried to breathe calmly and collect her senses. That was difficult to do, given the intense heat of the trunk. Her entire body was sweating profusely, and she wanted to take off some of the layers meant to protect her from the night chill. She could not do anything though, as her wrists were bound by tape to her ankles, which were pulled up behind her.

She waited patiently, knowing she could not escape a locked trunk like this. She would just have to wait for the car to stop and the driver to let her out. If they ever did let her out.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Anybody seen Nonna?” Adaliz asked as she joined the crew in the kitchen. They usually met in the conference room, but several of them had aching bellies, with an urge to make a midnight snack.

“No,” Shelly answered her, plopping down tiredly into a chair, “I haven’t seen her anywhere.”

“Did you check the storage rooms?” John Doe asked, munching on a leg of meat.

“I already checked the storage rooms. They were just full of storage things and no people. I did not think a Spy would be in there, but I scoured it anyways. I figure since there’s no BLU Spy in those rooms, there is also no RED Spy in there either. I think the Spies are all gone,” John Smith yammered beside him, with his own leg of meat. They were like twins with different voices when Adaliz looked at them.

“Come to think of it,” Julien spoke up, “I haven’t seen our Spy around.”

“Aye,” Cletis agreed, “It’s a mite peculiar that they’ve disappeared at this time.”

“You don’t think that they’re up to something, do you?” Adaliz asked the room.

“Not likely,” the Medic strolled in, setting her ubersaw down next to Shelly to fetch herself a sandwich, “It’s more apt that they had a run in with the Spy and are simply waiting to respawn. They’ll be back around soon.”

Adaliz sighed, feeling calmer now that the doctor was being assuring. She nodded to the Medic, before turning her attention to the smell of food around her. She was not necessarily hungry, but the food made her want to put something savory in her mouth.

 

Later that night, she decided to pay Nonna a visit. She was typically the only person allowed into the Spy’s space, being open with nobody but her lover. She knocked lightly at the door and whispered softly, “Spy? Are you there? Spy?”

There was no answer. No shuffling of bare feet along the floor – or slipper covered feet for that matter. There were no words of offense at being woken from slumber. As she pressed her ear to the door, there was not even a subtle breath that was so common to the Spy who slept with her mouth open.

Something was not right. Nonna loved her beauty sleep, so it was hardly debatable whether she would purposefully be out of bed. There had to be something forcing her out of bed. She hurried back to her room to grab her bat and hat, before she started to search the base for any sign of the Spy.

As the team had searched for the BLU Spy before, Adaliz searched for Nonna. Being alone, she hurriedly checked in every room and every crevice that she could, barring the rooms where other mercenaries were sleeping.

It worried her that Nonna was nowhere to be found. A small inkling of fear worried that she might be in somebody else’s bed that night. How could she not worry? The woman liked men as much as women, and they now had men on their team. Who was to say she had decided to have a one night stand? That made her blood boil though.

The mere thought that Nonna might turn her back on her made her stomach churn. She did not want to think that way about Nonna, not about her love, but she did anyways. She thought that way and she felt regret for it. She was certain that the Spy, despite being a Spy, would never ever stab her in the back.

This crucial detail came to mind and she settled back on her heels with a relieved sigh. When she rose, she returned to searching for the Spy. She had to be around here somewhere. If not, then maybe she went outside for some fresh air to go with her cigarette.

A light caught her eye from the kitchen, so she crept towards the entrance. She peered inside, before carefully tip toing through the quiet area. She would not be caught off guard, after all, and if somebody was sneaking around, even if it was a teammate going for a late night snack, she wanted to be the one to catch _them_ off guard. That would be pretty funny, she thought.

She came into full view of the fridge, looking at the figure that shrouded a ghostly shadow in front of the bright light. The head of long hair whipped around and she gaped with confusion at the face. The light behind her was contrasting, but the unfamiliar face was more than a little confusing. Slanted eyes became widened, staring at her with deep brown colors that Adaliz could not pin for dark chocolate or lacquered wood. She opened her mouth to speak, but could not bring herself to shout out about the civilian on base.

She was immediately shocked when she realized that the woman was wearing a fire suit, with a mask under her arm. She gawked, astounded at this revelation. She had known that Pyro was a Japanese woman, but she had never seen her face before. After years of hearing her voice over a radio, she felt bewildered to finally see her face.

“Y-Yuki…Yukina?” she stammered, now frustrated with her own lack of confidence. Just when her spunkiness was supposed to kick in, it had failed her.

The girl stood there, a hunk of clear wrap enveloped cheese in one hand, and a slice of whole wheat bread in the other. The girl had come down here for a midnight sandwich, strange given hers and the doctor’s usual diet of Japanese foods, like rice and noodles. And she just stared back at her, unspeaking and shocked.

“I…it’s not like you haven’t seen _my_ face before,” Adaliz chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of her neck.

She first noticed Yukina’s eyes beginning to lose focus. That part was a little alarming. She took a step towards her, uncertain of what to do.

“Y-Yuki? Are you okay?” she hoped that she was not sick. Maybe she ate something from the fridge that hit her the wrong way.

The moment she took a second step forward, the Pyro’s eyes rolled back in her head. Adaliz gasped, surprised but not bewildered this time. This time, she darted forward, charging towards the fridge in an attempt to catch her body. She was not there in time to stop her body from falling into the fridge, her arm catching on the shelves and pulling them out of place. Food spilled on the floor by the time Adaliz caught up to her, and at least she could feel the relief of having saved her from a concussion against the concrete floor.

“Jesus!” she exclaimed, hefting Yuki’s body.

She had forgotten how big the girl was, mostly in height. She stood taller than by Adaliz by just some centimeters, but realizing her Asian appearance, she somehow expected her to be smaller and lighter.

She hefted the other woman. It was difficult, given the other’s size. She was not necessarily the strongest mercenary either. Not sure where else to put her, she set Yukina in one of the mess hall chairs. Most of her wanted to get the Medic, but she feared that Yuki might fall out of the chair and get hurt worse. Not wanting anything bad to happen, she decided to wait and see if she came around.

 

When Yukina _did_ wake up, almost an hour later, Adaliz was highly relieved. She breathed a sigh and Yukina’s head whipped around. She stared at Adaliz, just as wide eyed as before. In fact, it almost seemed like she was terrified.

Adaliz tried to remember what it was that the Medic had said about her condition. Some sort of phobia? Maybe it was a social anxiety. Yukina always had her mask on, so when her eyes hit the gas mask, she hurried to grab it and set it on the table in front of her friend.

Yukina scrambled to grab the mask and get it on her head. She seemed so desperate and afraid, like something might hurt her. It almost made Adaliz alarmed, wondering what kind of deadly gas was about to fill the room.

“Hey uh…Yuki?” she asked.

There was a long pause. When Yukina did not respond for a while, she decided she would press again. After all, she could not even tell if she had passed out under that mask.

“Hey Yukina?” she pressed, “Are you okay?”

Suddenly, the Pyro raised a hand and gave her a thumbs up. It gave her such a strong wave of relief that it was audible. She put a hand over her chest, in case she did not hear her, wanting to express just how glad she was that there was nothing wrong with Yukina.

“You scared me there,” she chuckled, trying to shake the adrenaline rush that had come with this worry.

Yukina said something, but it was muffled behind the mask. She tried to listen, even leaned closer to try and understand. In the end, she had to give up and shake her head. There was no understanding anybody who was fully enclosed in such a protective suit and mask.

“Nah, I can’t hear you, Yuki,” she told her.

There was a pause, then Yukina got to her feet. Adaliz started towards her, but was stopped when the Pyro raised a hand. She turned around, facing her back to Adaliz. She lifted the front of her mask. Adaliz could only tell by the way the mask shifted on her head.

“You scared me, Adaliz,” her soft but cute voice was amazingly crisp. Somehow she had imagined her voice like how it was on the radio.

“Yea? Well you scared me too, so…I guess we’re even?” Adaliz chuckled off her own awkwardness.

“Please don’t t-” Yukina was saying something when some sort of noise caught their attention.

“What was that?” Adaliz asked, feeling a bit frightened. It was dark and shadows were spooky, after all.

“I’m not sure,” Yukina said, before pulling down her mask.

She pulled her scattergun from its usual holster. She did not want to be taken by surprise by teammate or foe. Worst case scenario, it would be a fully armed foe who was more ready than they were.

She was so spooked and hopped up on adrenaline that she almost pulled the trigger when a RED Soldier came in, John Doe. Weirdly stripped down to shorts and his helmet, he looked really weird – mostly because he was wearing his helmet while he was almost naked.

“Oh…um…John…” she breathed in relief, lowering her gun.

She turned, intending to tell Yukina everything was okay. She was surprised to find that the Pyro was right behind her, holding a chair up to swing it like a melee weapon. That was probably the most ridiculous thing she had seen in a while. Then again, she had seen a lot of weird things, so maybe this was not way up there. Definitely in the top fifty strange things she had ever seen though, and definitely among the most unexpected of things.

“This is a base, not a party house! We have work beginning at o six hundred!” he said, in a military monotone of demanding airs.

Adaliz rolled her eyes, “Yea…yea…we got it. We’re jus-”

“I didn’t ask for sass from a snail sucking bat swinger!” the Soldier raised a finger to her in a scornful manner.

“Excuse me?” she looked from the finger to his face, in an offended manner. Did he really just refer to her as a snail sucker? She had never even had snails before, and if she had, she probably would not like them. They were more of an upper class, if you have the money to buy weird stuff.

Yukina said something with a shrug. Of course neither the Soldier nor the Scout understood it.

“You two should be in your bunks!” the Soldier threw a thumb over his shoulder.

“We don’t even have bunks,” Adaliz rolled her eyes again, yet proceeded past him, “We have rooms…with beds. You know? Like-”

She stopped, turning to see Yukina. There was something hesitant about her. She wondered if she was still a bit overwhelmed from before. Maybe she was frightened by this Soldier, who was nowhere near as polite as _their_ John.

Suddenly, the Pyro leaped forward, lunging at the Soldier with the chair. It was a surprising movement that went straight for the head. Nothing in the swing held back.

“Yuki!” she exclaimed, but could only watch as the chair broke over the BLU Spy’s head. Shocked and bewildered, she looked from the Spy to the Pyro, back and forth.

Yukina was not done yet though. She was unarmed now, but not about to give up a fight. She watched as the Pyro jumped at the Spy, with a balled first. She tried to imagine this slender Asian woman, with her teeth grit at the Spy, thrusting her knuckles into his nose. Another fist went into his lower abdomen, digging right under the ribs into his diaphragm.

The Spy howled with pain, struggling backwards quickly. He turned and tried to high tail it out, but Adaliz manage to catch her senses. She threw herself forward, sprinting after the Spy. She raised her gun and just barely managed to bring it down on top of the Spy’s head. She did not want him dead anyways, not yet.

“Yuki!” she turned to call for the Pyro, who trotted after her, “I need your help carrying him. I wanna ask this asshole some questions.”

Yuki said something muffled under the mask, but she could not understand it. She started to grab for the Spy’s legs, but Yukina hefted the man right onto her shoulder. She followed behind her, baffled at her strength, as they headed back into the mess hall. Yukina set him onto a chair, then said something to Adaliz. Unsure of what else to do, she just held the man’s shoulders to keep him from falling over. Apparently satisfied by this, the Pyro went off to find something, leaving Adaliz alone with the Spy.

When she returned, she had duct tape. She handed it to Adaliz and they began wrapping him up. She looked from their prisoner to Yukina.

“What now?” she asked, shifting from foot to foot nervously.

The Pyro shrugged and sat down. Apparently it was the waiting game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when I will finish the next chapter. My usual computer has crashed permanently and I am waiting to buy a new computer. Until then, we will have to wait and see how things go as far as writing.


	26. The Spy Mystery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spies have gone missing, but an enemy Spy has appeared. What is he doing at RED, and where did the other Spies go?

Ash was frustrated at the sound of knocking on their door. Pulling out of the covers, they grabbed the robe and pulled it on, before they approached the door. They pressed an ear to the door, checking for any evident voices or noises. When they could not hear much, they unlocked it and opened it up to see Adaliz fully dressed and looking rather spooked.

“Scout? What are you doing up this late?” Ash blinked at her, bewildered.

“We’ve got…there’s a problem…we’ve got a Spy in the base and Yuki’s downstairs waiting with him,” Adaliz explained awkwardly, “I think we need you downstairs to help us sort this out.”

“Give me a moment,” Ash closed the door and rushed to the wardrobe.

Their mind was spinning as the rushed out of their sleepwear into something more suitable. What was Adaliz doing? What was Yuki doing? How could there be a Spy on the base if there was no warning about a Spy? That was not something that happened, not with the Administrator watching them twenty four hours a day and seven days a week.

Ash discarded everything in a hurry as they pulled clothes from the wardrobe and struggled to get them on. With practiced hands, Ash fastened the shirt and quickly pulled on the pants, one leg at a time. They almost grabbed a waistcoat, before remembering that they were needed in a hurry. There was apparently a Spy on the base and Adaliz and Yukina thought they had caught him. Ash just hoped they had not harassed the RED Spy and caused a whole fuss over tiredly not thinking about checking the color of the mask.

They grabbed a jacket for the cold, and hurried out. They motioned for Adaliz to lead the way, following her down to the mess hall. Their mind had already drafted out a quick but eloquent apology for the Spy, hoping that he would not be too angry, and would understand the misunderstanding due to tiredness and the darkness.

They were taken aback when they entered to find an unconscious BLU Spy and the RED Pyro sitting at the table. Yukina waved at them as they came inside. Ash stared with disbelief at the unconscious man at the table, being kept upright by the Pyro’s hand.

“Yuki?” Ash hesitated, staring at the Spy. Yukina made a muffled noise in response.

“He was sneaking around the base,” Adaliz explained.

“Yea but…why? And…” Ash looked up at a nearby camera. Something seemed off, almost as if it was sagging, possibly turned off. There should have been a small blinking red light.

“Not sure,” Adaliz shrugged, “I was just looking for Nonna and-”

Ash cut her off, “Yuki, what were _you_ doing up so late? You’re not usually up at this hour.”

“She was poking around the fridge,” Adaliz answered for her.

Ash looked from Yukina to Adaliz to the camera above them. They were not sure what to think. The whole base should be alarmed. There should be a huge commotion. This was not right in the least.

“Adaliz, go upstairs and tell Shelly to alert everybody,” they turned to the Scout, “Yuki and I will get him to the infirmary and see if we can wake him up.”

“Are you worried about the fact that there was no alarm?” Adaliz asked, with a tone of uncertainty.

“Yea,” Ash replied, “But, just make everybody aware. And get the Engineers on the issue of the cameras.”

“Right,” Adaliz nodded, before she rushed off.

Ash nodded, turning to the Pyro, “Let’s get our _guest_ to the infirmary and prep him for questioning.”

She nodded in response, getting to her feet and hefting the man onto her shoulder. She followed Ash through the base, heading to the infirmary. All the while, Ash was trying to figure out in her mind where she would start with questioning, especially when it came to why the two REDs were up and about, and why the BLU did not trigger any sort of alarm.

The most alarming thought hit her. If the Administrator overlooked a BLU Spy, and still had yet to alert their team about it with her usual vocal interference, something was wrong. If the woman barely slept anyways, it was quite possible that something had happened to her. What if, per chance, something had caused her harm?

 

*********************************************************************

 

The plateau of her career seemed to have tipped into a slope. It was a downwards slope that spiraled out of control. And here Nonna had thought that being a Spy could not get any lower than her previous career, especially not being a Spy that was pretending to not be on a television show.

Yet here she as, bound and gagged, thrown into the trunk of a car. All she could see in here was darkness. All she could hear was the rumble of the tires over dirt, occasional gravel and some smooth roads. She could not even hear the people in the cab talking, let alone any kind of music they might be entertaining themselves with.

The humiliation of defeat was making her feel weak and pathetic. Of course she had to get cocky. Of course she thought she had everything out of control. She berated herself like this mentally, wishing she had done a better job. Who knew what was going to happen to her now, or if Administration would send back up of some sort. Surely they had seen the footage and sent the information to Miss Pauling.

Then again, after everything they had been through, maybe Miss Pauling would back up out of this one. Maybe she was going to let her try and handle this situation. Miss Pauling had a lot on her mind and a lot to handle, after all.

She turned over in the car and stared at the darkness. There was a thin sliver of light, but just barely anything. The car seemed to be mostly sealed to keep noise in or out of the trunk. It was probably designed specifically for such an occasion as this, given she was being nabbed by Spies.

She could not take Fish seriously. The woman had allowed even her own teammates to call her by the stupid nickname that she no doubt hated. After so many years of working as her counterpart, it was easy to see how she thought and what she was going to do next. Though, Nonna had to admit that this was something she did not expect from Fish of all Spies.

Clovis on the other hand, this was certainly something he could pull off. He had a lengthy history as a Spy, and a deadly killer. He had been known to target and penetrate drug rings in his hay day. On the flip side, he had even gotten into the ranks of officers, completely destroying units from the inside out with his work.

Still, after getting to know him as well as she had, it was hard to see this as something he would do. Sure, kidnapping a BLU like this. But, working with the BLU Spy to kidnap the other RED Spy?

The alternative would be that it was not Clovis at all, but rather the other BLU Spy. That would make things easier to conceive, in regards to why they would do this in the first place. It did not, however, ease her mind about the situation.

Like Clovis, the male BLU Spy had been known to do his fair share of work back in the day. And while he was not quite as deadly in his records, he was definitely private. That meant that there were likely missions and pieces of information that were not in his files due to his own discretion and Spy work.

So whichever it was, she was still in a dangerous situation. Fish may have been ridiculous for allowing that nickname, but she took her job seriously. And if she was having any useful part in this, then she was likely going to prove just as dangerous to Nonna’s health as the other.

The car rolled to a stop and she rolled onto her back. Staring at the top of the trunk, she sighed. She felt like she had lost already. She felt like everything had been pulled out of her already. She wanted to give up, to just let the past lie. Maybe if she told _somebody_ she would feel better about everything she had already done.

For years, she had been lying. For years she had been trolling her own teammates. And they had been nothing if not good to her. They had been so good to her, she would consider some of them her family.

They had catered to her needs, helped her through troubling times, and even been closer than friends. Adaliz came to mind at this, and she felt tears well up in her eyes. A lump formed in her throat as she tried to rub her eyes dry. No, she had to stay strong for her Scout.

Muffled voices came from outside of the trunk, and a hand opened up the lid. She looked up at the starry morning with a feeling like despair. She did not look at the masked face looming over her. She did not need to know which one it was.

“We’re here,” Fish growled, as she grabbed Nonna by the arms.

“Where is here?” she tried to speak through the gag in her mouth.

“There’s no point in talking,” Fish hefted her onto her shoulder, since Nonna could not walk with her ankles tied up.

“This way,” Clovis ordered.

Nonna could not see where they were going. She could only see what they left behind. The pathway was overgrown by quite a bit of flora, but there was not much to cue her in otherwise. She watched as the path fell away behind them, and then as a doorway engulfed them in darkness.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Adaliz took a breath as she finally finished explaining what had happened to the doctor. Everybody else nearby was either listening in or not paying attention. For that reason, she left out any details that might hint that her worry for Spy went down deeper than friendship.

She always let Nonna pick the pacing on things. It was always up to Nonna whether they made something about their relationship known or not. Nonna was the Spy in their relationship, so she knew best about what should be hidden and what was safe to let out, especially to _whom_ to let it out to.

So far, the majority of their own personal team knew. But, Nonna had not been clear about whether she was hiding their relationship from the resident REDs or not. They certainly did not outright tell the BLU’s, who mistook them for best friends all of the time.

She was certain that Smith knew. He could be pretty distracted and ignorant, but he was not stupid. He was probably being supportive of them by never talking about it.

Lucy knew, with winks and nudges. The woman was a playful type, but ever the partier. She did not mind what they did, so long as they kept it to their own quarters.

The doctor definitely knew. The doctor knew almost everything about Adaliz. She could not bring herself to keep a solid secret from the medical professional. So, she was glad that Nonna went ahead and told the Medic before she had the chance to spill the beans on accident.

Yukina knew. She was probably one of the biggest supporters of their relationships. As ironic as that was, the Pyro was most openly happy about them when they were together, dancing together or working on the field.

She and Shelly probably supported them most because of their own relationship. Very few understood the precious relationship between the Pyro and the Engineer. It did not matter to Adaliz, they loved each other and that was enough. She did not have to know if it worked like her relationship with Nonna or not, as long as they made each other happy.

Whether Nyaga knew or not was beyond Adaliz. She could never be sure about the woman, given how quiet she was all of the time. Sometimes she figured she was as smart as the Medic, but the Heavy did not necessarily have degrees hailing from three different countries.

Then there was Sofia. The woman was definitely a familial part of their group, but she never shared their values. She found much of what they did deplorable, even though she herself did deplorable things. Adaliz never openly talked about her relationships with anybody with Sofia – though she rarely talked to the Sniper anyways – so she was definite that the woman had no idea about them.

The resident team’s knowledge about them was debatable. The resident RED Spy likely had some hint about them, given some previous incidences. But, she wondered if he knew for sure yet. She might never know if he knew for sure, given how tricky Spies could be.

“Scout? Scout!” the Medic snapped their fingers in front of Adaliz’s face.

“Huh? What?” she quickly looked around, and then at the doctor. She gave an awkward smile, hoping to decrease any awkward tension she might have caused.

“Are you paying attention?” Medic asked.

“Oh, yes of course!” Adaliz insisted, with a nod.

“Alright,” the Medic took a breath, then they turned to address everybody, “Considering the situation and the circumstances surrounding it, I believe it is not farfetched to assume that something has gone wrong.”

“Gone wrong? What is it that you mean has gone wrong?” the Texan Engineer spoke up.

“The Spies are missing!” Tanner piped up, “Aren’t you paying any attention?”

The Demoman laughed, patting his shorter teammate on the back, “I shut it all out hours ago!”

“You’ve only been down here for twenty minutes,” the Medic gave them a deadpan look.

The laughter was slow to calm down, only coming back to attention when the other Medic stepped forward. One hand remained behind his back, while he gestured with the other hand, “According to the BLU Spy, his female counterpart has gone missing. With her, our own Spies have gone missing. With the inclusion that they disappeared hours before nightfall, we may deduce that they are long gone by now.”

“Any ideas of what might have actually happened to them?” Tanner asked.

The taller Medic took a breath, then shook his head, “No.”

“We are working with what the Spy knows,” the shorter Medic explained, adjusting their glasses on their nose.

“Is there anything you can tell us so far? Like…is- uh…I mean, are they hurt? Or anything like that?” Adaliz pleaded.

“I’m afraid we don’t know,” the Medic shook their head, “I am very sorry Adaliz.”

Adaliz frowned, feeling disappointed. At least the Medic was trying though. They certainly acknowledged why Adaliz was so invested in knowing whether the Spies were okay. At least that settled her mind on the situation. Being ignored on the matter would have just made her feel worse about everything.

“Don’t worry,” Tanner patted her shoulder, “They’re Spies! They’ll be okay!”

“The boy’s right,” Lucy came over to pat her upper back. Lucy’s height always put her at a disadvantage, and lowered the usual place she would pat people on the back. “Our Spies are resourceful! They’ll be laughing as they come back!”

Adaliz nodded to her, “I hope you’re right.”

“I know I’m right!” Lucy smiled. Then she hopped upwards, snatching a bottle from the other Demoman. The man was so drunk that he did not understand what had just happened, staring at his empty hand with a bewildered expression. “Here! It’s time to drink and have a good time! No worrying!” Lucy threw back the retched Scottish drink, finishing off the brew with minimal tears before she smacked the glass bottle to the floor.

“I was going to drink that!” the man protested, with a sad look on his face.

“Aye!” Lucy had a teasing voice, “And you would be just as shitfaced as you are now, Cletis!”

“Who’s going to clean that up?” the smaller doctor asked, looking rather triggered at the broken smelly glass shattered on the floor.

There was a moment of silence, as they shared looks. There was a split moment of flinching, before everybody was suddenly running to get out the door and away from the area. Even Lucy, who had smashed the bottle, was running to get away.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“I got the mop, doc,” Shelly walked in with the implement in hand.

She watched as Ash’s shoulders slumped and they sighed with a look like despair, “Is it really so much to ask them to clean up after themselves?”

Shelly frowned and huffed a sigh, “They’re mercenaries, not maids. They don’t see themselves as part of society.”

“Well, I can tell we aren’t part of society,” Ash turned to her, with something like a worried frown, “Not really. We’re something outside of society.”

“The kind that exists on the fray?” Shelly chuckled, as she set the bucket of water aside so she could mop up the mess.

“I’ll get a broom and dustpan,” the Medic sighed.

“Don’t worry about it,” Shelly insisted, “Yuki’s off to get those. I sent her off when I saw everybody’s faces.”

“It’s that easy to tell when nobody will help, isn’t it?” Ash shook their head.

“They mean well,” Shelly insisted, “Their heads just aren’t there where their hearts are.”

“I mostly don’t understand why they _run_ for it,” Ash shrugged their shoulders.

“You’ve got a…” Shelly cleared her throat, “You’ve got a way about you when it comes to handling others, doc.”

She tried to keep it vague. She never liked making Ash upset or hurt. It was difficult to actually upset them, or get them to show most emotions – regarding strong and important emotions. Small bits of irritation and being upset they would show openly, especially with friends like Shelly. But with stronger emotions and frustration, especially exhaustion and around others, they would reign in all emotion, bottling up anger, frustration, sadness and exhaustion.

“It’s never easy to handle people,” Shelly went on, as she soaked the mop in the bucket and wrung it out, “But, you keep on trying. Right, doc?”

“I’m…going to go deal with this Spy,” Ash said, approaching the infirmary doors again, “Wish me luck.”

“Good luck,” Shelly replied, with a smile, “Not that you need it.”

Ash offered her a smile before disappearing into the infirmary. Shelly sighed, glad to have averted a crisis of sorts. She imagined the doctor going off the rails, if for instance their inner turmoils – the ones they kept under lock and key in all circumstances – came bursting forth under the barrage of a simple frustration. After all, all it took to tip the scales was a mere grain of sand. She always wondered if the Medic’s exhaustion would ever get the better of them. Of any person on the team, they deserved the most consideration, in Shelly’s opinion.

“Here I am!” Yukina announced her presence with the walkie talkie on her belt.

Shelly turned and smiled at her to accept the broom and dust pan, “Thanks hon.”

“I can sweep. You mopped,” Yukina insisted.

“If you say so,” Shelly said, with a shrug. She resumed her work, now just mopping up as much wetness as she could. She would hate for the Medics to forget that there was moisture out here that they could slip on.

She looked over at Yukina sweeping everything into a dustpan. The Pyro turned her head to her, probably smiling. Yukina was supposedly always smiling behind that mask. She especially smiled at her friends.

Yukina’s head swung around to look at the double infirmary doors, then back to Shelly. “I want to talk,” her voice came over the walkie talkie.

“Then talk,” Shelly chuckled. Yukina could be so silly sometimes, that she could never tell if she was being serious about it, or doing it on purpose.

“No, I mean _talk_ ,” Yukina pressed, sternly.

“Oh…” Shelly glanced at the double doors.

This sounded like something Yukina would not want Ash to know about. Being her guardian of sorts, Ash was not only protective, but also strict in doling out punishment. At least, she was for Yukina. It made Shelly wonder if the girl was – in Dr. Ash’s mind – a prodigy of sorts.

Shelly lowered her voice, “If this is something you could get in trouble for, then maybe this is not the place to talk about it.”

“It’s not trouble,” Yukina replied, hastily.

“Alright,” Shelly nodded, “Let’s clean this up and we can go upstairs and talk. How ‘bout that?”

Yukina nodded and gave her a thumbs up. Then she turned and trotted off to dispose of the glass in her dustpan. The way she skipped away just reminded her of a child though. It was strange to think that she was older than Adaliz.

That was not saying much, seeing as both of them had childlike qualities. Adaliz was the type of girl who liked to play ball and do her best to show boys – or rather men – up in their own game. Though, that did not always fair well for the girl. Sometimes, you just were not better at something than a man with twice as much muscle in mass as your entire body’s substantial mass.

She sighed, taking the mop and water off to dump the filthy fluid. Her mind sank into thoughts though. She strayed from her team and began to wonder about that Spy. It was not usual for a Spy to come wandering into enemy territory without having a legitimate reason, and Ash assured them that he was definitely not after the intelligence. Granted, Shelly figured he had no reason to lie, since all the BLUs wanted was the RED intel. But, if he was not here for the intelligence, then what was he after?

“Shelly? You alright?” Sofia’s voice caught her off guard.

She offered the girl a smile. Then she remembered, Sofia was – by technicality – the youngest on their team. She was even younger than Adaliz, born several years after her. Yet, she had been hired later, making her older in appearance due to respawn. Adaliz being hired at a younger age meant that the respawn kept her looking young and pretty.

“I’m fine,” Shelly assured her with a smile and a nod, setting aside the mop and bucket, “I’m just uh…stuck in my head. That’s all. There’s a lot to be thinking about and I’m doing my best.”

“Good,” Sofia nodded, “You _are_ the smartest on our team. I would want for somebody to find a solution. But, I think you’re the best at that.”

Shelly blushed, “Well, I wouldn’t say the smartest. Doc’s got me pretty beat.”

Sofia frowned, “Going to three universities does not make you smart. They can hide and pretend all they want. They can talk a pretty picture about themselves. But they are haughty and pompous sometimes, and that makes them a cocky mess. You’re humble all the time, and that’s part of what makes a good thinker.”

Shelly was a bit taken aback by Sofia’s words. She would never really call Ash pompous herself. Maybe a little haughty sometimes. They liked to think highly of themselves, but they never really talked down to others in any way. If anything, they were very gentle with others in their words, making sure to take care of emotional trauma as often as the physical damage.

“I hope you think of something,” Sofia said, “Because, I can’t even figure out what a Spy would be doing here, let alone where the other Spies went.”

“Hmmph,” Shelly rubbed her chin thoughtfully, “Possibly a trap. The RED Spies coulda ambushed Fish while she was here. She _was_ supposedly the Spy who was trespassing after all. Maybe the others went to deal with her.”

Sofia’s face went pale, “I…I…”

Shelly raised her hands, “I’m sure that what you’re thinking is _not_ what’s happening to anybody at this time. Just calm down and settle your head. I’ll uh…talk to you later.”

“Oh, do you have somewhere to be?” Sofia inquired.

She thought about telling her that she wanted to talk to Yukina upstairs, but thought better of it. “Nah, I’m a wee bit tired and need to sit down for thinking,” she lied, “All this walking’s put a strain on the leg.”

“Alright, rest well!” Sofia waved goodbye before she went on her way.

Shelly bit her lip as she toddled over to the stairs. She felt really bad for lying. She should not feel that way, being a mercenary and all, but this team was different, they were a family. As such, they trusted each other. Families sometimes talked smack about each other, but they should not lie to one another.

She sank into a feeling of remorse as she made her way upstairs. She could not shake the feeling that she should have just told the truth, and her impulse to lie might come back to bite her.

It was only a little lie. Still, it was a lie. And once you lie once, if found out, you can’t be so easily trusted again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They're not quite asking the questions that they should be asking.


	27. All Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna is left alone in a room to do absolutely nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter utilizes elements of white torture. This chapter covers sensitivity of abuse and isolation from a personal perspective. Read at your own discretion.

Nonna looked up at the light. It shined brightly in her eyes, blinding her to the world around her. Everything else might as well have existed in blackness. The inkiness at the edge of her vision was betrayed from time to time by a figure appearing to edge their way into the light.

She took a deep breath, trying not to panic, “What will it be then? Interrogation under the threat of torture? Injury? Come on, surely you have a better plan than this.”

There was a long silence. It was unbearably long. There should have been something, a breath of smoke or a jostle of clothing. There was nothing but the whisper of the wind outside of the walls.

“Here we are,” she broke the silence herself, “Just sitting here in silence.”

Still more silence answered her. She still could not make out the figures. They kept themselves distant enough so that she could not see them. She knew though, there was no question about it. She remained confident in the knowledge that it was both Fish and Clovis.

“And here you are,” she said, trying to look right at the shadowy shapes at the edge of the light.

She frowned as the figure remained there, unmoving. The light permitted her nothing more to see, though she kept imagining some attempt at dramatic entrance via turning on the light very suddenly. Yet, there was nothing there, and nobody spoke, as the tenseness of the moment just dragged on.

She began to notice that her breathing was loud. She held her breath for a moment, unsure if it was just the silence or if she was starting to pant with anticipation of torture. After what he had been through, what she had put him through, Clovis was no doubt angry as a mad bull. He probably wanted revenge, and he would take his sweet time about it.

She finally let herself breathe, careful to even out each breath. She had to be sure he did not take too much notice of what she was doing. He was probably watching her from the outskirts of the light, just waiting for her to feel comfortable or something. There had to be a right moment for something.

If she was honest though, her best knowledge came from the early James Bond movies, as well as a few small time shows that she watched growing up. Torture was not something you experienced in everyday life, it was something that happened to secret agents. It was a creation of intense interrogation, and was considered warranted at times of war.

It felt empty that she herself was lacking in experience. She came to the job of a Spy with the feeling that she might do something that was something more. Was it more daring? Perhaps that was what she wanted. Maybe it was adventure she wanted. Or maybe it was just the idea that she would be something of an outlier, a female James Bond, even if the world did not know about it.

That all meant nothing now. She was an actress. She was an actress in her last career, and she is an actress in this one. Whether she was in front of cameras or simply trying to keep the secrets, everything had to be an act.

“Okay, I get it,” she rolled her eyes. Her voice felt loud in the silent room. It made her shudder just to think about it. “Whenever you’re ready…pound me with those questions you want answered. I’m certain in the fact that I won’t be giving you answers.”

Nothing came, only silence remained there. There was only that patient silence. Even the darkness began to feel tense. The light that she was under was the most intense and stir crazy thing about this experience. She hated it, being as it was so hot and bright in her face. At the same time, she was afraid of it turning off, as it was the only stimulation she had at the moment. With no sound, light was the only thing she had to realize where she was and what she was doing there.

“If you’re quite done with this tantrum, I would like to get along with things,” she pressed.

When nobody answered, she sighed and put her head back against the chair she was in. She looked away from the light. She wanted the light, but it was too intense for her eyes right now. It was too intense for her eyes to ever be okay with it.

The thought about light brought to mind that her eyes might just need to adjust to the darkness. They were forced to adjust to bright light. If she could get her pupils to dilate, maybe she would see the figures in the darkness. So, she did her best to crane her neck, directing her gaze into darkness and away from the lamp over her head.

How very clever, she thought. She smiled to herself as she gazed up at the blackish ceiling. Slowly it became gray, if grainy in appearance. She was not sure what it was supposed to look like in normal daylight, so she could only guess that she was adjusted enough.

She turned her head and quickly looked around. She immediately lost her smile upon seeing that nobody was there. The Spies had disappeared.

Figuring they might have moved, she craned her head back to adjust to the darker light again, then quickly turned her head to the other side. When they were not there, she grew worried. They should have been in here questioning her, or taking their retribution. This was not how things were supposed to work.

“Hello?” she called out, flabbergasted that they were not even there.

She figured they must have left. They had to have been there before. Surely she had seen the figure in the darkness move.

She looked where the light was again. She used her peripheral vision, doing her best to try and see what she saw before. She simply could not see it again. There had to have been a figure there before.

 

She did not know what time it was when she suddenly roused. She looked around, stunned that she was once again alone in silence. The light was still on overhead. It kept her head warm and made her feel sick.

She looked around the room to find nothing. She groaned, wishing she could see better, or even get up from the chair. She already stank of sweat, her stomach was starting to growl and her bowels were begging for a toilet.

She took a deep breath, holding tightly with her legs, as much as her hands clenched the rests of the chair. She raised her chin and called out, “Is anybody out there?”

Of course there was nobody. Nobody heard her at all. At least, she had figured the two who had captured her would be paying attention to their captive.

They certainly could not want her to soil herself either. That would be gross, unhygienic and inconvenient. The time and energy it would take to get her clean, which was something unto itself that she did not want to think about, would not be worth it.

“I could really use a toilet!” she called out.

Nobody answered her and nobody came. The room remained silent and mostly dark. There was only the light that beamed down on her head.

She tried to look again, to see if there was anybody in the room, but she was certain that there was nobody around. She would just have to wait for somebody to come and help her. Maybe they had busied themselves and would be back later.

 

She had nearly dozed off. The sudden jolt she gave herself caused her to groan. The mere feeling of just a little wetness made her groan with despair. How disgusting.

“Clovis? Fish? Anybody?” she called out, searching for an answer.

The silence seemed to drown her words. She was left there again. The discomfort made things more unbearable, as she tried not to sit in a certain way. The embarrassment left her feeling frustrated.

“Hello?!” she called out again.

She wriggled her arms in the restraints. She was confused about how they lashed, searching for a buckle. She figured that maybe she could try and get the buckle free on its own. To her dismay, she realized that they had used an extra-long strap, looping it over its own buckle.

She scoffed when she realized it, “How’d they pull this off? How do they expect to get me out of this?”

She growled with irritation and tried to yank her feet. Those too were restrained, tied to the legs of the chair. Of course, this made the position she was sitting in all the more awkward.

 

It was hours before the distant roar of an engine caught her attention. She gasped, thinking that it might be somebody arriving in a vehicle. Again, to her dismay, the engine noise went right by, driving off into the distance. She laid her head back and tried to forget about it.

 

She roused, thinking she heard something. There was nothing but silence there. She could not even hear a mouse, if there was one.

She sighed, realized she must have woken up from a dream. Maybe it was a nightmare. Whatever it was, it was gone from her mind. She could not get it back.

She pulled against her restraints, having forgotten they were there. She sighed and flopped down against the chair, with nothing to do and no way to scratch the itch on her scalp.

The trouble with hair was that it needed washed. She loved her long flowing locks, but they required daily care. The bits of hair that touched her face felt icky and greasy. She was definitely overdue for a bath or a shower.

“When I go home, I’m taking the longest bath,” she told herself.

Silence answered her. That was okay though, since she did not expect any answers. She was purposefully talking to herself, after all.

“I’m going to scrub everything…even my room,” she sighed.

She tried not to fidget so much. Being here so long, while not knowing how long it had been, she could not bring herself to sit still. She needed to get up out of the chair. She needed to stretch her legs. She needed to pee.

“I’m never judging a hobo ever again,” she groaned, “Or Pyro. Jesus…I guess if you really can’t get out of a spot.”

She bumped her head back against the chair. She was so bored. She was so fidgety. She could not sit still.

“I’m giving a huge kiss to Adaliz and telling her how sorry I am for making fun of her fidgety behavior,” she said, “And I’m never teasing for her- I mean _her for it_ again! Ever!”

She shifted in the seat, noticing that she could not reach her shoulder blades. A small tingle built up in them. It rose up her back and manifested itself as an itch on either shoulder blade.

She groaned, “Not now please!”

She wriggled in her seat, trying her damnedest to get the itch out. It would not go away, no matter how hard she tried to scratch it on the back of the chair. It did not help that her shirt was soft and the chair was very smooth. There was no friction to work with.

“Oh come on!” she raised her voice.

The moment she stopped speaking, the silence swallowed her. The tenseness filled her. She began to feel like it was thicker than before. It was somehow darker than before. Was it even possible to fit more silence into a room?

 

She was not sure when she actually brought herself out of thought. She had not dozed off. On the contrary, she could not fall asleep. It was quite frustrating. Every moment she spent in that chair made her feel less and less able to sleep, as she felt the need to jump up and do something.

She was not sure what she would do. She could clean the floors. That was not something she would typically do unless her need for cleanliness provoked it, but this was a situation of dire boredom. It would be something productive that they could let her do.

“Hey, um…is anybody going to question me?” she called out, “Is anybody going to like…I don’t know…do anything? Am I just supposed to sit here? I kind of have to pee!”

There was no answer. There were not even footsteps outside of the door. There was nothing to even hint that there was anybody around here.

She growled with frustration, “I just want to clean the floors!”

Silence grew thicker and thicker. It threatened to choke out her voice, to remove her words. She refused to let it win out.

“You could give me a book,” she suggested, “I’ve always loved literature. You could at least give me like…one of those pans? You know…the ones they use in hospitals? For the sick people who can’t get up? They use them for invalids and people with severe injuries that prevent them from getting up and walking themselves around. You know what I’m talking about?”

The silence crept up on her. It was going to snuff her out if she did not keep up the noise. She had to make noise. She had to do something that would keep it at bay.

“I just really need something to do right now!” she called out, “Is anybody listening to me?”

She sighed and let her head fall forward. That was when she realized that her pants were wet. When did they get wet? She felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment. She still had to pee, and they were still not taking her to a bathroom.

 

She opened her eyes slowly. She felt so groggy. The light was the same though. Everything was the same though. The room was completely empty, as far as she could see.

She sighed, regretting every bit of staunch smelling air that entered her nose. She smelled absolutely putrid. No doubt they would smell it too, and they would not just mention it, but talk about how wretched it was that she was in this position.

“Fucking assholes,” she growled.

She wiggled a bit, trying to get some sort of movement with her muscles. There was no telling how much longer she was going to be there, and it was about time she moved.

 

She was just about to shut her eyes for a nap with the light suddenly flickered. Her heart skipped a beat and her bladder gave out for what must have been the fourth time already. She wanted to cry under how shallowly fearful she had become, and all that had happened was the flicker of that stupid light. She hoped it went out soon.

She closed her eyes and laid her head back, hoping to get some rest. It was too boring to just sit there awake. If only she could just hibernate until something new happened. Then again, they probably would come in and overstimulate her to get her to wake up.

 

Her eyes snapped open at the flickering. It was happening again, only this time it was happening more prominently. It seemed like the light was just about to go out.

Fear shook her bones and she almost started to breathe out, “Don’t! Don’t go out!” She instead murmured a prayer in Russian.

She waited, as the bulb slowly regained its full life. It seemed like a storm had passed. This seemed like something terrible had come and gone just like that. She could now relax and go back to sleep.

A loud pop came from behind the bulb and the light vanished, rushing away from her. Her eyes wanted to follow it, to go wherever it went. She wanted the light back. She had to have it back. It was all that she had here.

“No! No! Hey! Somebody? Is anybody out there? The light went out! Your light went out!” she cried out.

Nobody answered her. They never did. Why would she expect any different?

“Is _anybody_ even paying attention out there? Anybody? Am I supposed to change this light bulb with my hands tied? This is not a puzzle I can solve!” she called out.

The darkness encroached on her and her sight. Her eyes did not simply adjust, because there was no more light. It had escaped and left her in this windowless and seemingly doorless enclosure.

 

She was not sure when she started humming. She was not sure of anything anymore. She could not even tell what time it was. For all she could tell, she was impatient and scared, or it had been days. There was no telling without a window or a clock in this room.

She let herself start rocking back and forth, ever so slightly. The little bit of motion gave her some comfort as she started singing. Once she started, she could not stop. She tried little rhymes at first, just simple little things, then she was singing things from the show she used to be in.

She skimmed over some of the show’s more popular theme songs. Then she went over some popular songs from movies. Then she hopped into the songs that were specific to her in the show.

Singing those songs again brought back so many memories. The memories of the character and what she meant were so strange. She remembered being a different person because of that character. So isolated from people, alone and without a clue as to how to deal with her situation. Being busy all of the time from this show did not help her situation either. She had become a very different person back then, and all because of _her_ , that character she played on the show.

It was all her fault, she thought. It was always the character’s fault. What fault could she have? She was kept busy by the hours, she was constantly challenged for her position by every woman with a slightly younger looking face. Even being a twenty something young thing did not keep her safe back then.

She stopped singing those songs and switched to the other songs. The songs on her albums, the ones that did not associate with the show. They were songs she sang for herself, once upon a time. Later in life, they became published specifically for those who enjoyed her singing in the show. There were not many, but the fans who bought those songs loved them. She remembered the fanmail pointing out the specifics of why they loved having her work.

She missed that. There was always something special about fanmail. There was no expectation of reciprocation, just a continuation of her work. There was no need to thank them specifically, as they were awed by her as an actress and singer. Namely being an actress, her face had been a prominent thing for those fans, and many of the things they sent her had her own face on them.

There was none of that here. Sure, there were fans of the show, she had even met some of them, but none of them were connected to this show like they were with other shows. Other shows had personality, people connecting and even names. Maybe that was why they all started calling each other by name, for the most part. Maybe that was why she always referred to Scout as Adaliz. Maybe that was why she kept calling the Sniper Sofia, even though she preferred that she did not. Even just having people call the Medic _doc_ felt better than calling them by their title.

That must have been the sensation from which she had established the name Nonna. It was an easy identifier for her teammates to use, but it also gave her personality. She _had_ personality. She could act. She could sing. She was constantly watched by the cameras for those very reasons.

She was a character in her own right. She _was Nonna_. She embodied _Nonna_. Not like her teammates did not, but they were not aware of the cameras. Their personalities came from themselves, while she was struck with the realization that thousands upon thousands of people, more than had ever watched her in her previous career, were watching her.

 

She roused again, this time to the piercing ache in her stomach. There was no questioning that it had been at least a few days. She could chock up her fidgetiness to anxiety and impatience. She could determine the stench being from her frustration and anticipation – not to mention being unable to visit a toilet. All of this did not explain why her body was starting to feel deteriorated, when she barely ate compared to most people.

Granted, she came here on an empty stomach, having had a desire for something to eat early on. Her stomach was starting to ache though, and it was draining the hyperactive energy from her body. She needed something to eat. More than that, she needed water.

She groaned at the thought. That was not exactly the best situation, given she would end up having to pee again. Having water and pissing oneself was embarrassing beyond belief.

 

The next time she woke, there was something on her face. She was startled, unsure of where she was or what had happened. She forced herself to calm down though, as this meant that there was somebody around.

“Hello?” she could barely hear herself.

She tried to rub her head against her shoulder. Through her jacket and shirt, she could feel something hard against her ears, something that was soft on the inside, pressed against the cartilage. She took a guess that she had been blind folded, and they had covered her ears to keep her from hearing.

She raised her voice to as loud as she could, “HELLO?”

Her voice sounded the same, like it was in her head. No matter how loudly she called out, she could not hear herself. She could not hear anything for that matter. All she could hear was silence.

Everything was closing in on her, or at least it felt that way. She felt her breathing increase as she searched for something in her mind as an escape. She needed something to calm her down. She was only freaking out more, as she realized the type of predicament she was in.

It was okay to be in a dark room where she could not see outside, as long as she could hear things that immediately surrounded her. Now however, she could not hear or see what was going on around her. She could not even hear her own voice clearly. It felt like it was in her head.

She took in a deep breath and realized that all she smelled was nothing. In fact, her nostrils felt a little numb. It seemed off, like something had desensitized her nose to sensation. The only sensation she was certain of was the breath that went quickly through her nose and mouth.

Leather grabbed the underneath of her jaw and raised her head. She gasped and whimpered in fear and uncertainty. She could guess that it was a hand, but really it could be anything. Her mind was filling in the blanks, as a tube of some sort was forced between her lips. She tried to fight back, to pull away and force the tube out of her mouth. The hand held her still, and water fell from her mouth.

She gasped, sputtered and coughed when the water first came. It stopped rushing, as she took in the sensation that it was cold fresh water she was being given. This time, another hand took her nose, pinching it shut so her mouth had to open. The tube did not stop at her mouth, sliding to the back of her throat until she gagged. Fear overtook her and she thrashed. The mistake caused the tube to scrape her throat, as they forced it down.

She was on the verge of tears when her stomach began to fill. She could barely tell it was happening, but only knew they were finished because they pulled the tube out. She gasped and coughed when the hands left her, letting her head sag forward.

“That was unnecessary!” she spoke loudly, trying to hear herself.

She could not hear a response, and instead remained in silence. She could not really hear herself breathing normally, but she could feel it. At least she had that feeling of breath going through her mouth.

She tried talking to herself, but it did not work out well. She could not hear herself, she just knew the words coming from her mouth. She even tried singing, hoping to calm herself to sleep, but it did not work out.

Nothing helped her relax anymore. She could not even fall asleep from exhaustion at this point. At any moment that she closed her eyes, some terrifying nightmare awaited her. Part of her reasoned that it would be better to have bad dreams. At least it was something. Then again, she was already in a nightmare, she did not need to go into another one.

 

Silence and darkness pervaded the hours, until the leather gloved hands came again. This time she was ready. She had something of a plan.

Her plan failed, but she was left with something. First was the taste of leather from biting down on one of the hands. The second was a harsh slap to the face from that very hand, leaving her with something of a sting on the cheek.

The sensations were more than enough for her to feel like she had her senses again. She had her sense of fight. She could win this, if she just remained patient and took the right moment. The difficulty was finding the right moment, without being able to see or hear what was going on around her.

 

She was again alone. This time the silence won. Her own voice sounded dissonant, like something she had never heard before. It seemed, inhuman in a sense.

The darkness behind the blindfold held her in a spell of confusion. She was never sure if the room was the same room she was in before. Part of her imagined that there was light all around her. Maybe she had been moved to a whole new place, but they did not want her to see it. They did not want her to hear it or feel it. They had to avoid her touching it, or else they will have lost. Then she thought that maybe she was still in the same room, under that light, but they did not want her to see the light anymore.

Thinking about the light gave her something of a comfort. If there was light, there was something of safety. Light was life.

 

She was finally falling asleep, comforted by her own thoughts, when she was suddenly shaken. At first she was confused and bewildered. She gasped and tried to look around. It was hard to keep in mind that there was a blindfold over her eyes that was not just stark darkness.

An earthquake perhaps? She tested the theory, waiting for any after tremors. She did not remember this area of the country having any sort of earthquake issues. Still, it was not entirely out of the question.

When she was sure that it was not an earthquake, or that it had did down, she let her head sag again. She immediately went into a deep trance, falling into that peaceful kind of sleep. That was when she was shaken again.

This time, she was sure that it could not be a quake. Earthquakes did not grab your chair like that, but people did. Whoever was shaking her was doing it through the chair. But why?

When the shaking stopped, she tried to sleep again. Again, just as the trance settled in, the chair shook, rousing her senses. She felt so confused and tears fell from her eyes. She was tired and it hurt.

“Stop that!” she cried out.

It was obviously to no avail, as the perpetrator did it once again. She growled and tried to lash out, throwing back her head, in hopes that she made contact. She merely ended up bumping her head against the top edge of the chair.

She let her head stay there and tried to stay in a trance. The person shook the chair again, trying to keep her awake. She decided to play asleep. Maybe if they thought they had lost, they would stop. To her dismay, the shaking only got worse and she was not even able to lay her head back, as the chair hit her.

She hissed in pain as the chair finally settled. Her head would be hurting for a while afterwards. Fighting with this person seemed to go on for hours without ending. She was not even sure how it would end if it kept going like this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter was not too boring, or otherwise was not too disturbing for people. I felt like writing Nonna's experience as she breaks down mentally.  
> I was not going for the total and actual use of white torture, just elements of it.  
> White torture is not one particular style, but has been applied by various different governments in an attempt to use non-violent means of interrogating somebody.  
> By definition, it is basically isolating somebody from people and from senses. In the first recorded use of it, white rooms were used, along with white prisoner's clothing and sound muffling shoes for the guards. It has been applied recently by first world countries as well, such as the US's Guantanamo bay, where prisoners wore goggles and had their hands tied behind their backs. If you want to know more about it, please do your own research.
> 
> When I thought about white torture (thought to be named that because of white noise), I thought of the applications it might have in regards to a character in question, which is why I did not go for real white torture.  
> Her captors are not really going for non-torture, but instead for something that actually fits her. Being a socialite, isolating Nonna strictly drives her into her own mind, and forces her to face certain realities, as well as the loneliness that she hates.


	28. Dead BLU and Dead Bleu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clovis takes care of the BLU Spy.  
> Miss Pauling is visited by a new enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, I started rambling to myself. Much of this chapter turned into a ramble of explanation of what's going on in the background.  
> It'll be important later on. If it doesn't come up in this story, it'll definitely be in the next one.

Clovis had returned early that very morning. Both of them had. The Spy was restrained and they would deal with her later. They had to keep up appearances before anything got out of hand.

Much to his dismay, things had already gone out of hand. The BLU team was already knocking on the RED base’s door, armed to the teeth as they demanded the return of their Spy. When Clovis got around to finding out what this was all about, it became clear that they had underestimated the possibility of the unaware Spy getting curious.

Tied to a chair in the infirmary, where both Medics could keep a close watch on him, the man looked fairly calm yet frantic at the same time. There was something messed up about the situation and he could not determine it. Clovis decided to calmly make things clear enough for him that he would not go digging for answers.

He pulled up a chair and sat in front of the other Spy. There was silence between them. It was like a quiet nod to their history as enemies.

“Where were _you_ last night?” the man demanded.

“Visiting an old friend,” he lied, delving into the alibi he had concocted for his escapade.

“You and Fish both vanished last night,” the BLU Spy replied.

“Fish? Oh, the Swedish Spy,” he pretended to forget the woman for a moment, “I’m not aware of what she does. I don’t know anything about her.”

“She vanished yesterday,” the BLU Spy explained, “As I told your comrades, the team found this very suspicious. She is not usually gone for long periods of time during the day. Last place she was seen going was this base.”

“So you took it upon yourself to investigate, is that right?” Clovis finished for him.

The BLU Spy gave him a tight nod, “Yes.”

Clovis sighed and did a quick mental overview of his next move. There was no real reason to keep the BLU Spy here. He was not a threat to him, having collected no known information that could be used against them. At least, it was pointless anyways. If Clovis were in this man’s situation, it was possible he would have attempted to find some weaknesses among the enemies, but given his goal it was unlikely he did.

“We have no further reason for you here,” he told him.

The BLU’s lips tightened, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that I am going to release you,” Clovis explained.

“Just like that?” the enemy’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“Just like that,” Clovis nodded, “No reason to keep you here. You are just wasting everybody’s time.”

He pulled out his kunai, giving it a little spin in his fingers. The weight of it felt so familiar and good. It was like an old friend to him.

A flash of recognition passed across the BLU Spy’s eyes. He knew what this was and what Clovis meant. There was only one reason to use a kunai, and that was not for cutting ropes.

“Make it quick,” the BLU requested, leaning forward to make his back more accessible.

Clovis nodded and gave him a small bit of gratitude. He reached behind him, gloved fingers feeling for the spine, looking for just the right point. It was strange, this moment of intimacy. Back stabs were usually very distant, staying behind a person where they could not see the Spy.

The intimacy was always one-sided. It was all about the Spy taking in details and stalking his prey. That was the extent of the intimacy, the Spy getting to know his kill.

Both being Spies, it felt dutiful enough to share this moment. It was not necessarily intentional, but it felt ironic. The Spies’ eyes met, gaze to gaze, as Clovis brought the kunai up and over his shoulder to jut into his back.

The BLU Spy balked at the pain, screaming out in horror at the awful sensation. They went through a lot of tortures on the battlefield. They were burned, mangled, maimed and so forth, but rarely did they actually backstab _each other_. Things changed a lot when you add new people to the mix.

He rose from his seat and looked down at the man he killed. The body slumped forward, lifeless in less than a minute. He paused to clean his blade off on the shoulder of the jacket, before making his way out of the infirmary.

The Medics would come soon. Everybody would want to know what was going on. They would want to know why the BLU Spy was gone. He would have to reason with them that it was just not worth the trouble. It would take a lot of explaining to calm certain mercenaries down. He was not in awe of himself and his abilities, but he certainly had no doubts that he could convince them that this was the best move to make. It was not like any of them wanted to incur the wrath of the Administrator anyways.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Pauling paced the office. Panic was stuck in her gut. Everything was spinning out of control.

She had the cameras playing, but they showed nothing. Ghosts of nothing, no doubt a Spy, had suddenly sprayed paint all over the cameras in that area. She could not find anything from when the RED Spy was last seen.

The disappearance would be sensational, almost perfect for the next showing. The editors were working pretty fast on the film from this base lately. They could probably have it out in two days. They were doing record time as of late.

Not knowing the outcome of what was happening to the Spy, and being too worried about her actual wellbeing to fuss about this stupid show, she did not care for the editing. In fact, she had already sent in a cease and desist order on the editors working on the film that came from that base. They would put this particular show on pause, just until she could determine that the woman was safe.

“Things not working out the way you wanted them to?” she was surprised by a French Spy.

She turned with a gasp. She was wary when she recognized the Spy named Bleu, but otherwise called Réne on camera.

“This job must get fairly dull for you,” he noted, looking at the footage that was playing behind her, “Still pays though, doesn’t it?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked, in a warning tone.

He lifted his hands defensively, as he stepped towards her, “Don’t kill the messenger. I am merely here to bring something from Gray.”

“What?” she demanded.

He reached into an inner pocket and pulled out a white envelope. That was not a good sign. Usually Gray sent large letter sized manila colored envelopes. This was too small and could not contain many documents.

She warily took the envelope from him and used a nail to open it. She kept a wary eye on him, as she pulled the papers out of the envelope. When she had it ready in front of herself, she turned her eyes to it.

“You’re fired,” she read aloud.

“That was _not_ the response I was expecting to hear,” he said, with surprise.

“No, that’s what it said,” she said, pointing to the letter.

“Huh,” he raised his eyebrows as he peered at the letter, “According to this, your contract is up.”

“That is odd,” she squinted at the paper.

She felt so confused by this. Why would Gray just fire her? That is not the kind of move he would make. There had to be a catch to this somehow.

Suddenly, a bit of metal touched her head and she whipped around to see him holding a gun to her skull. She went wide eyed, hurrying to push her glasses back up her face, before she raised her hands. She was unarmed and defenseless.

“Like it says, you _are_ fired,” he stated, gesturing to the papers.

“Why are you doing this?” she asked, her breathing growing quick. She had not expected the Spy to turn on her so quickly.

“Let’s just say…working for Gray has its perks,” he said, in a thoughtful and measured way.

“M-me staying alive doesn’t affect you working for Gray!” she exclaimed, nervously.

“No,” he admitted, “But he did ask me to finish the job. I’m finishing my job.” He paused for thought. “Although, I do have you to thank for all of this. You’ve done me a service, tricking me into selling out to Gray. It’s been fun, but this is the end of the line.”

“Y-you don’t have to do this,” she said, nervously, “Just walk away and I’ll disappear. Nobody will ever know.”

He made a thoughtful sound in his throat, “A tempting offer, if I were stupid.”

“Gray will turn on you,” she warned.

“As did you,” he said, seemingly amused.

“No! No I didn’t!” she declared, “I never turned on you! I never turned my back on any of you! I fought for you! I fought _with_ you! I did what I had to…not for me. Not for you. For everyone. For what would have happened-”

He cut her off by saying, “What _could_ have happened…”

“What could have happened…” she went on, “that was far worse than all of this.”

“Well, thank you,” Bleu chuckled, “It’s been a blast. I’ve gotten what I need and now my last high point is to kill you. Goodbye.”

Pauling’s eyes snapped shut. She heard a gunshot right after. She warily opened her eyes, but found that she was fine. She looked down to see the Spy dead on the floor. So much for the threat that was about to kill her.

She turned to see a Spy who had appeared. She sighed with relief at seeing him. She had forgotten that she had hired a man to be her secret body guard. It was never safe working anywhere that Gray could reach her with Spies.

He nodded to her and cloaked, disappearing again. He did not seem like he cared either way about whether Pauling herself lived. He was paid to care, he was paid to shoot the gunman. Being disconnected from what had happened with Bleu helped, but it did not erase the reality that he was only there as long as she was paying him to care.

“Miss Pauling?” the invisible Spy asked cautiously.

She was looking at the body on the floor, “Uh huh?”

“What now?” he asked.

She took a deep breath, “Now…now I’m not sure.”

“That’s not a very grand thought, Miss Pauling,” he noted.

“I’m trying to think,” she turned from the body to the monitors.

“You don’t have a project anymore, if you don’t have Gray’s backing,” he added.

“If my contract…” she paused, finally looking at the monitors.

Last she had Gray had discussed contracts had included the contracts of her projects. The recontracting required her to stay ten years, and her projects would stay just as long. What did not make sense was that up until now, Gray had been supportive of her work on projects.

“I don’t get it,” she whispered.

“Maybe we should leave,” he suggested, as he decloaked.

“That’s probably the best idea yet,” she nodded.

“Have a place in mind?” he inquired, as he followed her out the door.

“I might…” she hesitated, “But…I need to make some plans before I go there.”

“Care to enlighten me on these plans?” he requested.

Her stride slowed a bit as they made their way out of the building, “Well…considering you didn’t like your previous employment working for Mann Co…how do you feel about starting a war to bring it to its knees?”

“I thought you did not want war?” he asked, a bit confusedly.

“Gray’s been marching,” she explained, as they approached his car.

Since she did not keep a car, he basically drove her everywhere. Weird that he was so prominent in her existence now, yet she had forgotten he was in the room back there. She chocked it up to stress and being distracted by everything going on.

“Uh huh? Okay?” he pressed for details, as he walked around to the driver’s side.

“It’s been on my mind for decades,” she explained, “And I think it’s time to stop waiting for his move.”

“I thought he’s been moving this entire time,” he commented, as they climbed inside.

She took a deep breath as she buckled her seatbelt, “Yes well…his requires step by step. His plans are intricate. I can’t say I know every single step he’ll take, but he is being cautious.”

“Why?” he asked.

“Huh?” she felt a little confused that a Spy would ask **why** to caution.

“Why so much planning? Why so much caution? He has so much money, he could buy the presidency,” he explained as he started the engine.

“I know, but he doesn’t seem to care about government and legislation,” she sighed.

“If he did more than buy his seat in the politicians’ circle, he would be able to control legislation that tells his company what to do,” he added, as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“True, but I don’t think he really cares that much,” she went on.

“I thought he hated homosexuals,” he commented, with a tone that bespoke a nasty taste in his mouth.

“I don’t think that’s it either,” she added, “I feel like there’s something more to it. Gray didn’t downslide from a master manipulator and murderer to a lowly politician with family values on his mind.”

“Then what do you suppose he is up to?” he asked.

“It’s all a ploy,” she explained, “It always has been.”

“Okay, you’ve said that about him before,” he responded, “If I remember correctly.”

“Thing is…I don’t think things are going to happen the way he wants them, unless he puts the pieces just right,” she added, “We would _expect_ him to move quickly. He has all the pieces, why not?”

“Because it would be rash and suspicious,” he put in.

“He has an army’s worth of mercenaries,” she went on.

“Granted, they don’t work together well,” he added.

She continued without missing a beat, “And if those mercenaries were hired to do something like take down a military, they could. If they were directed at country’s governments, they could destroy political powers. They could take down all of the powers. They could destroy the world and leave nothing but anarchy trying to sweep up a new form of government.”

“Sounds like he is looking for reform,” he noted.

“It doesn’t matter if it is reform, or a power grab…the majority of mercenaries don’t care _who_ they are killing. They get paid to kill,” she said.

She thought over a hundred different faces. Many of them she forgot the names of, but there were so many of them. She should know the names of them, and she should be more involved with them. If she was, she could stop whatever was going to happen to them.

“And what does this have to do with women and…homosexuals? And dykes…and the like,” he inquired.

“Hmm…” she sighed, “I’m not sure if there is an example I can give you that you would know of.”

“Then describe one that you know of,” he pressed.

She took a deep breath and let it out quickly, “You remember I told you about those men who were separated?”

He gave her a dead pan look, “Of the hundreds of tales you’ve told me, how could I possibly forget that one?”

She scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Andrew Swanson…he was a Soldier working for Builders League United, but he got transferred down to Mexico and contracted to Reliable Excavation and Demolition.”

“So? That was just another relocation. A separation of lovers…nobody was killed, were they?” he asked.

“No,” she shook her head, “Killing them happened almost immediately after the two were reunited. Unless a mercenary was protected in the contract of another mercenary, any mercenary of a certain _standard_ became a target. This wasn’t practiced before.”

He huffed with impatience as he pulled onto the freeway, “That still doesn’t explain-”

She cut him off abruptly, “If you had a lover to protect, wouldn’t you focus on him rather than the task at hand?”

He was quiet for a while. He was way too quiet, for much too long. It must have hit home for him, seeing what he had lost. It weighed on Pauling’s mind too.

Not wanting to end this on a sour note, she decided to apologize, “I’m…I’m sorry…if I said something…that…uh…”

“No no, it’s fine,” he waved off her apology, “It still hurts, but the pain in memory drives one forward.”

She nodded, feeling a relief that did not quite wash away the pain of guilt, “Okay. I’m glad you see it that way.”

“Besides,” he gave a weird chuckle, “Hasn’t he heard of the greatest three hundred man army in history?”

“Er…remind me?” she inquired, more than a little confused.

“What?” he gave her a perplexed look, like she should know what he was talking about.

“I’ve never been good with history,” she said, with a guilty smile.

He rolled his eyes, “Forgive me if the details are a bit off, but the old legends tell of a Grecian army of Sparta, made up of three hundred men. They were strong and powerful men, but especially- _**especially**_ homosexual.”

She was silent for a moment. That sounded like something he had pulled out of a fiction book, or perhaps just out of his ass. She shook herself, trying to bring herself to her senses.

“That doesn’t sound…right…” she noted.

“They were an unsung three hundred, who stood against the Persians,” he explained.

“Ohhh…there was a movie about that!” she said. She blushed when she remembered the burly mostly nude men. It was more skin than she had cared to look at. “They aren’t unsung, they went down in history.”

“As being three hundred men who died bravely staving off an enemy,” he nodded, “What is refused from the history books is that those three hundred were specific. Their specifications required that they lay with a man. And it was not just some entrance exam or something of that sort…not like a club or fraternity at these…damned American schools nowadays…” He waved a hand through the air in frustration. “No, the unsung part of these men was not even their homosexuality, it was their love. They did not die soldiers, they died lovers. They died for their men. While others chime up about home and country. While others would sing about a woman at home. These men were fighting to show off for each other, to protect their lovers beside them, and to stave off death for another day.”

“That’s…” she did not really have much to say about it. She let the words dwindle as they conversation sort of ended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea, anybody who read the series "They are Called Family" will know some of the characters that will be meshing into this series. I'll take care to introduce them to some degree.  
> I don't remember the specifics of it, but it is believed that in actual history there was a Grecian army of 300 men who were supposed to be lovers. Being unable to relate intimately with other soldiers in that battallion was not enough. I probably missed some point or another, but just as I don't remember the story too clearly, neither does Spy. It works as an analogy for the future anyways.


	29. Three Spies Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something is going on, but Miss Pauling is not being very clear about it. Nor does she seem to be paying mind to the team's prioritized concerns.  
> Clovis gets a little closer to the truth, but sometimes the truth hurts. They say what does not kill you makes you stronger, but they forget the things that still break you.

Clovis came to find Fish looking in at the woman in the observational room. The woman was like a mirror for anybody she was studying closely. Just as their captive showed signs of exhaustion and discomfort, so did Fish.

“We should have just started with the water to begin with,” Fish growled.

“You had insisted that you were in for this…the whole way,” Clovis replied, sternly.

“Yea, but not to kill her,” Fish protested, refusing to make eye contact with him.

“You’re fairly protective of an enemy,” he noted.

“I’m not a merciless killer!” Fish snapped.

“Very well, but she was never going to die in the first place,” he turned to look in the window at the woman. She was whimpering and humming to herself. “Still trying to hear herself?” he asked.

“Seems that way,” Fish nodded. There was silence between them for a long while. “How long until we interrogate her?” Fish suddenly broke that silence.

“Give it some more time,” he said, with a calm voice, “Have patience.”

“All you’re doing here is torturing her,” she noted, with a bit of anger in her voice, “When you said you were going to take away sensations, I thought it would be fine. But look at her!”

“She has to break,” he noted.

“At least give her some actual food,” Fish argued.

“She _has_ to break,” he pressed. He would not move in his stance on this, there was no other way.

“Not if you interrogate her!” she finally turned to him, “Just interrogate her already! Just get it over with! It’s been over a week already and she’s just getting weaker from sitting there!”

“Have you ever known this woman to tell a truth?” he asked.

“I-” she was caught up by that question, “Well…”

“I understand you don’t like looking at her like this,” he noted, “But she has to break. She has to break to talk. She has to break to remove the mask. She has to break to remove any thought that she might be able to snake her way out. This is why manipulation does not work. She always thinks she has an out.”

Fish sighed, “Fine. It’s your turn to watch her. I’m going for some sleep.”

“See you in the morning,” he said, keeping his eyes on the woman inside the room beyond the window.

“See you,” Fish replied.

He gazed in at the woman for a while. She was just sitting there, rocking and humming and whimpering. They were all signs of mental break down, but it was not yet broken.

She had to be broken down. She had to have no hope left. She had to think that her only way out was to cooperate fully.

He could just walk in there. He could take the sound blocking headphones off. He could talk to her, see just how lost she was, and see if she would cooperate. That would not work though. That would ruin everything.

She was isolated. The loneliness was already getting to her. She had stopped calling out for anybody at random, doing it in patterned ways. She cried a lot too whenever she called for somebody. She would add some dialogue about boredom or needing to use a bathroom, but it was always with tears and desperate crying.

She was almost there. He could see that she was almost there, but he could not let empathy grip at his senses. He was a professional, after all. He had to keep his head in all of this. If he gave in so soon, he would lose in the worst way.

Giving her the light as a symbol of hope had worked. When it was taken away, she was practically shocked. That meant that this was going faster than it would have otherwise. She was cracking, and it was just a matter of time before she was fully ready for questioning.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash accepted the vials that Nyaga was handing them from the high shelf, “Thank you, Nyaga.”

The Heavy gave them a nod. She opened her mouth to speak, but both of them went completely silent when a familiar voice screamed from across the base, “MEDIC!”

Ash took off first, having an instinct for responding. Nyaga followed quickly behind them, her long stride overpowering Ash’s shorter stature. They quickly met a large group of mercenaries making a half circle around Miss Pauling.

“Miss Pauling?” Ash spoke over the others as they pushed through the crowd.

“I need your help,” Pauling turned to her, breathing a bit heavily.

“Miss Pauling, have you found any clues about Nonna?” Adaliz pleaded, pushing through the others to get closer. The desperate Scout looked pleadingly to the mousy woman.

“We’re more than a bit worried,” Shelly put in, holding her helmet between two hands.

Miss Pauling looked from one person to the other, then back to Ash. She took their arm and pulled them aside, “I need to speak with Medic!”

Miss Pauling dragged Ash along haphazardly. Ash looked back to see Adaliz trailing along. This seemed like a situation where Miss Pauling wanted to speak privately, but the distraught Scout had her mind on other important matters. So, Ash cleared their throat to get Miss Pauling’s attention.

“Scout, please,” Miss Pauling turned to her, “I need to speak with Medic alone for a minute.”

Adaliz did stop walking, but she looked so distraught. The despair on her face for lack of answers made Ash feel extremely guilty. They followed Miss Pauling, unsure of why they were leaving the base. They should be going to a conference room to talk or something.

She decided to try and change the direction that they were going in “Miss Pauling? Should we be-”

“Doctor Harding, I need you to come with me,” Miss Pauling said, stopping to turn to them.

“I…what do you need me to come with you for? Did you find Nonna?” Ash pleaded.

“No…not yet…” Miss Pauling hesitated, glancing around warily, “Your contract is up.”

“What?” Ash blinked at her with confusion.

“The whole team,” she explained, “Your contract is up, and Gray will be coming in to offer you a contract…but I swear it’s-”

“Wait…what? Gray?” Ash pulled away from her, “Why would Gray come with a contract? We work for Redmond.”

“Redmond is-” Miss Pauling shook herself, “Look. We don’t have much time.”

“I’ll say, I have a Spy to find!” Ash argued.

“No, listen!” Miss Pauling insisted, “I promise I’ll explain everything, but you have to come with me!”

“Miss Pauling, are you unaware about the missing Spy? We cannot find Nonna. All things considered, we are concerned,” Ash told her, firmly.

“I understand that,” Miss Pauling said, “But we have to get out of here.”

“Why?” Ash scrunched their brow, unsure of what might be troubling the woman, “Is something wrong? Did something happen? What’s going on?”

“We have to-” the woman was cut off as a gunshot hit her, causing her to cry out and fall forward.

Ash caught her, pulling her out of the line of shot. They looked up to see a tall lean man, holding a big pistol pointed at them. They did not really think when they called out for the others.

“Hold off your team, or you die,” he pointed the pistol barrel at their head.

“I have respawn, asshole,” Ash rose to their feet, facing the man with a stern glare, “I am not afraid of-”

They were cut off as the gun came up and a shot went through their head. They felt shocked. It was probably too late to realize that he meant that he would kill Miss Pauling. He was talking to the little woman who was not on a respawn system.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Clovis slipped away during the confusion involving Pauling. He would not be needed or missed there. There were too many mercenaries for Pauling to worry about anyways. At least, she seemed to be distracted by the female Medic already.

When he arrived at the scene, he could tell immediately that the Spy was broken. Fish herself looked a bit broken up, watching with fervent eyes as she tore through her own nails like an animal on a bone. For enemies, there was a strange connection between them.

“She is ready,” he growled.

Fish sighed, a bit shaken and startled by his appearance, “Must you appear like that?”

“Must you be a Spy so easily startled?” he responded.

She frowned at him, but said nothing more. She did not seem up for any kind of friendly banter. That was fine with him, seeing as he was turning his attention to Nonna.

She was ready, so he stepped inside. She could not hear him, so he moved comfortably. The moment he touched her though, she would know. He was cautious, waiting for just the right moment amidst her sobbing to put a hand on her head. He let his hand sit there, while her sobbing stopped. The grace of having that feeling of hope return to her was something that could win over the obedience he needed for the answers he wanted.

His other hand moved slowly, deliberately shifting the headphones off of her head. Her breath was shaky as they removed, revealing sensations to her ears that allowed her to hear herself. It must have been a shock to suddenly be able to hear herself breathing so shakily.

“I’ll tell you everything,” she gasped.

He felt quite satisfied to hear that, removing his hand from her head. He was still silent, but let her hear the clip of his leather shoes against the floor, as he took a few steps away. He turned to face her, folding his arms over his chest. He was not left waiting very long.

“It’s been Mann Co,” she told him, “Miss Pauling…Miss Pauling is just a pawn. We’re all pawns. They’ve been screwing with us from the beginning. Well…almost the beginning. I didn’t know about it either, until I became a handler! I…I only kept it…I only kept it because I care about them. I couldn’t risk their lives. Mann Co doesn’t want more handlers. And they aren’t moving anymore mercenaries. They don’t want to deal with that, so they…” Her voice trailed off and she lifted her head as though searching for him from behind the blindfold. “Please…please don’t tell them!”

He was quiet, waiting for more than she might give up on. He was sure she was seeking some form of reassurance. She wanted certainty about where he was and whether it was him or somebody else in the room with her. He would let her guess at that, floundering for some form of sympathy.

“If you tell them, they’re dead!” she pleaded.

He patiently waited for something to change in what she was saying. That was all she would say though. She just kept asking him not to tell the others, whom he could only guess was the rest of her team.

Disappointed in the answers he was getting, he decided to show what would happen if she did not change her line of talking. He raised the headphones and gently touched them to the top of her head, as if to slide them over her ears again. She recognized the sensation almost instantly and reacted just as quickly. She squeaked and let out a plea through tears and screams.

She took a few breaths after he took them away, and then began to speak again, “It’s Gray Mann. He’s behind a lot of this. The whole Mann family has been playing us since the eighties. We’re not even fighting anymore. It’s just a show! It’s all for show! Ev-every…every camera is for television! The Administrator doesn’t even sit at the monitors anymore, she’s retired!”

There was so much desperation and screeching in her voice that it grew irritating. The more he tried to piece it together though, the more things started to sound less like an attempt for escape and more like a story of betrayal. It sank deeper and deeper, until he felt he might puke.

“Believe me…I have seen them…” she explained breathily, “The shows I mean…and we’re not the only ones! Mercenaries all over the world have been tricked! India, China, England, Scotland…quite a few in Scotland actually…Saudi Arabia…Egypt…” Her voice trailed off again and she took a few breaths to collect herself. “W-we’re…we’re just pawns for entertainment. And they’ll dispose of us if we are not obediently useful anymore,” she explained.

He opened his mouth, wanting to speak, but he quickly shut it. He would say nothing to her. He would give her no more sensation than what she already had. She would have to assure herself if that was what she desperately wanted. He touched the top of her head with the headphones again, eliciting pleas and crying from her.

“No! Please, please! I have more! Th-th-the contracts! The contract you signed last! It would have had a clause in it! It had something in it, didn’t it? It was a release of information and identity, including digitally in the efforts of the company’s uses,” she said breathily.

There was a moment of doubt, until he looked back in his memory. He remembered signing his last contract about eleven years ago, given Miss Pauling said there were updates. Being the kind of man he was, he had read through the whole thing. He did not see any of the changes as worth his attention, considering he lived behind a mask and had never given his real name before. It was surprising that anybody had come up with his real identity in the first place.

Now, Mann Co had his identity. They knew who he was and where he was from. They knew how to manipulate him, that was clear from Nonna’s previous attempts to intimidate him. They knew what made him tick.

He wanted to turn all of his building anger on her. He wanted to smack her over the head with the headphones. He wanted to throw her over with the chair and kick her teeth in. His rage was unsettling, but he let it simmer as he watched her speak.

“None of us want to do this! I never wanted to do this! You were getting too close to the truth!” she pleaded with him, “You were getting close and Miss Pauling said the only way to silence you was this…what I did… I’m sorry!” Her voice boiled over into crying as her head fell forward.

He touched her head with the headphones again, but this time she did not really respond. She sort of just kept crying with her head down. He took the headphones with both hands and started pushing them down her head.

She shook her head in response, trying to make it difficult for him to get the headphones on properly, “No…no…no no no. No. This is all wrong. I don’t want to be here.”

Suddenly the door slammed open, startling them both. He looked to see Fish rushing inside. Her eyes were big with fury and disbelief. Her face was red like a berry’s skin. Her hair was growing slick with sweat, as if she had been sitting in the next room with a heater on right next to her.

“Liar!” the woman screamed.

“Fish?” Nonna squeaked quietly.

“You’re lying! You don’t know anything!” Fish roared, closing the distance between herself and the captive. Clovis barely managed to put himself between them, keeping Fish at just the right distance. “You’re a fake! You’re lying! I should have known! All you do is lie! To your grave you’ll lie!”

“I’m not lying!” Nonna proclaimed defensively, one headphone falling off of her ear.

“I’m not listening to a word she says!” she shoved Clovis aside, backing away from the chair the woman was tied to.

“You don’t have to,” Clovis said, in a calm and quiet voice.

“You shouldn’t listen to her!” Fish went on, angrily, “She’s a dirty liar!”

“Why are you reacting like this?” Nonna asked, breathily, “I am not lying! I’m telling the truth this time!”

“Don’t make me laugh, you pompous bitch!” Fish tried to leap at her again, but Clovis caught her and threw her back.

“I’m not! I’m not!” Nonna proclaimed, “I…I can prove it to you! The show! The show is there! You can see it! Turn on any TV hooked up to satellite and you’ll find a channel with that show! We’re on it!”

“That’s a load of horseshit!” Fish screamed.

Clovis had to throw her back again, this time pointing her to the door, “Don’t pull this. Out.”

“She is lying,” Fish growled, pointing at the captive behind him.

Frustrated, he grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the room. He let the door slam behind him, as he dragged Fish out through the front door and into the sunlight. He gave her a shove, hoping to put her off balance.

“What is wrong with you? Are you an idiot?” he shouted at her angrily.

“She is lying! She is making stuff up! You shouldn’t listen to her!” she raised her voice.

“That is not a reason to run in and start screaming!” he threw his arms up in exasperation, “All of this time making her overly sensitive to everything, and you’ve ruined it! You’ve possibly ruined us!”

“Y-” she started at the sound of a hand radio in the car.

“Fish! Fish are you there? Fish!” the familiar voice of the BLU Heavy came over the radio.

She reached in through the window to grab the radio and pressed a button, “What?! What is it?”

“You’re alive,” the woman on the other end sounded relieved.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Fish replied irritably, “Don’t call me on this channel again. I’m busy.”

“Where the hell are you?!” the female Medic on BLU demanded in a frustrated voice. She went on in German saying, “We are all going to die! They’ve come for us! Where are you? We need you! We’re dead in the water!”

“Alright, alright,” Fish sighed with exasperation, “Calm down. What seems to be the problem. I don’t speak German.”

“Something’s wrong,” Clovis commented.

“Yea, I got that,” Fish snapped at him snidely. She turned back to the radio, “Beatrice, I can’t deal with this right now.”

“Get your ass over here!” the German woman screeched, letting the sounds of gunshots reverberate over the radio.

“That’s…” Fish’s voice trailed off as she stared at the radio in disbelief.

“Gunshots,” he nodded. It would be the perfect way to divert Fish’s attention from what was going on here. “You should go,” he insisted, motioning to the car, “Your team needs you.”

“No,” she turned to face him squarely, “We need to finish this. _Now_.”

He frowned and followed as she headed back inside. There, Nonna was much more alert. Her headphones were still eschew, so she could hear things better. Clovis cursed himself mentally, wishing he had remembered to put the headphones over her head sooner.

He hurried past Fish to Nonna. He quickly put the headphones over her head and then turned around to face the BLU. They had to change the plans.

“Look, we’re going to have to do this with her again in a few days,” he insisted, “This whole thing has been messed up. Give her a few days of low sensitivity and we’ll try this again.”

“No! We do this now!” she demanded, pulling out a pistol.

“Easy now…” he raised his hands. His mind already went to deciding which of his guns he was going to pull out. Ever since he started working with the enemy Spy, he kept a few extra weapons on his person at all times. “No need to get trigger happy right now,” he insisted in a calm voice.

“Take off her headphones,” Fish demanded, motioning to Nonna with the muzzle of her pistol.

He moved one hand slowly to the headphones. He kept his other hand steady, but ready to go for his pocketed revolver, the one she was aware of. If he did not need to use it, he would not be giving away any of his hidden weapons.

“Slowly,” Fish demanded.

He did as she said, removing the headphones carefully. He did his best not to startle her. All the while, he became very aware from Nonna’s breathing that she was freaking out.

“What have you been hiding?” Fish aimed the gun at the captive woman.

“Fish,” he spoke softly.

“ **Tell me**!” Fish roared angrily.

There was hesitation before Nonna let out a sob. A loud gunshot reverberated off of the walls and Nonna screamed. The bloodcurdling sound made it seemed like she was dying. Clovis almost panicked, before he saw that it was a mere nick on the woman’s leg.

“What have you been hiding?” Fish demanded through clenched teeth.

“Not this,” Clovis insisted. Her gun swung towards him again. “Just put the gun down. There is no need for it.”

Nonna was still crying and screaming. He had seen her take many bullets before, all more painful than this for sure. He had even seen her drop from a building on purpose once, dropping to her death with a sensation of purpose. Yet, here she was screaming her head off from a mere nick of a bullet. Her sensitivity was too high to be putting her under this much stress.

“Fish, you don’t know what you’re doing,” Clovis insisted.

“Maybe _you_ don’t know what you’re doing!” two gunshots hit him and he fell.

He grunted as he hit the ground, before rolling out of view behind the chair, in hopes of deterring more bullets. He turned his attention to the wounds, unsure of what to make of them. There was blood on his face, and his hand found more towards the side of his head. It was probably not a big deal, probably his ear was shot and he was in too much shock to feel it. It would not be the first time he had had an ear shot off. The other wound was more obvious, as it skidded just over his left shoulder.

“Listen to me!” Fish raised her voice angrily.

The pistol cocked, as if to threaten Nonna. It was as if she was unaware of just how much Nonna was crying and screaming, in pain and desperate to escape this hell. So much for not being a merciless killer, he thought.

He rolled to his feet. In the same motion, he snatched one of his pistols from a pocket and raised it to eye height. He aimed for Fish and opened his mouth to demand that she drop her weapon.

“I didn’t want to…none of us did,” Nonna pleaded through her whimpers, “Alan…the Pyro…China…”

There was a sharp inhale from Fish, and Clovis pulled back the hammer, “Drop the gun.”

She did not give him time to think about it, letting off a shot that caused Nonna’s body to jerk. Blood spewed from her head as the bullet went through her cranium. With little more time to spare, he shot twice, hoping he had his aim still set on the target when he looked back to her. One bullet went through her throat and the other went through her head. She fell with her gun, giving not so much as a sound.

“Dammit!” he hurried to the chair and pulled away the headgear and bindings.

Nonna’s face was completely still, stiffened like a board. She had a frightened expression, true terror still held in her soon-to-be-glazed eyes. Her cheeks were pale and stained with tears, with fresh new ones still sitting on her cheeks.

“Dammit!” he cursed again, letting the woman drop to the floor.

He scrambled to his feet and raced out. Strangely, he was starting to feel light headed. The sun certainly did not help, burning his eyes with bright rays that attacked him from the inside out. It gave him a splitting headache just being out there.

He forced himself to walk to the car, taking the radio. He searched through the channels, hoping to pick up somebody or someone. Maybe they were not quite out of range of the respawn. Maybe Nonna would be there in ten minutes. Maybe she would be alive. If that was the case, then he would make sure that things did not work against him.

“If you can hear me, then say something!” he heard the little French Scout call out.

“Hello?” he responded.

“Spy? What are you doing? Don’t answer that. I’m trying to find Medic. Have you seen them?” Adaliz replied, with an urgent tone.

“I don’t currently know,” he replied.

“Ah shit,” the woman’s voice was almost overrun by gunshots, “We could really use a Medic right now! Both Medics are gone. One’s down. Miss Pauling just went nuts! Where are you, Spy?”

“I’m…I’m on my way,” he tossed the radio onto the passenger seat and climbed in. He did not bother with the seatbelt as he started driving. He was not that far away. He was just far enough that nobody would think to look out here for the female RED Spy. Still, he needed the car to get him there.

His stomach grabbed his attention, but he tried to ignore it. The splitting headache was distraction enough. If only he could sleep it off.

“Maybe just five minutes,” he groaned, as he closed his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some can handle the truth, some are hurt by it. Fish snapped, but I guess we might not get to find out why she snapped.  
> No Clovis, you don't close your eyes while you're driving!


	30. Respawn is Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is what it sounds like: panic.

“Scout, cover me!” Pauling called out.

“You got it!” Adaliz called back to her, darting out to give Miss Pauling some coverage from the guys in dark clothing who were giving them a hell of a run for their money. In fact, they seemed to have enough guys around that they sent a bunch of men to the BLU base too.

The earbud she was wearing crackled to life, “Somebody please tell me we are kicking their asses.”

Adaliz smiled, relieved and wanting to cry, “Good to hear your voice, doc! We could really use your help!”

“These cretins are crawling everywhere!” the doctor’s voice came over the earbud, “They have gotten into the respawn!”

“What?” Sofia squeaked.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” was Lucy’s response.

“Doc, is the gate locked?” Shelly demanded.

“No!” Medic replied, with honest surprise.

“Stay put, I’m coming your way,” Shelly said.

“Nuh uh! We need Medic out front!” Adaliz shouted.

“Adaliz, to your left!” Miss Pauling called to her.

She turned just in time to shoot down two guys aiming at her. Thrilled at having beaten them at the shot, she giggled. “Thanks Miss P!”

“Scout, we need to keep respawn safe,” Shelly informed her, “Doc, just guard the entry. I’ll bring a sentry over and you can join the others.”

“I will come for doctor,” the rare voice of Nyaga came over the speaker.

The Medic sounded relieved, “Alright, but hurry!”

“No problem,” Nyaga replied.

“I’ve got a problem!” Shelly replied, “Too many of these assholes are in my way!”

“Why are we worried about respawn?” Adaliz asked.

“Because these fuckers are everywhere, Scout!” Shelly shouted, “If they were sent by somebody, it was to shut down respawn!”

“No respawn?!” Lucy screamed in shock.

“That can’t happen,” Sofia said, in a firm voice.

“Alright,” Adaliz hopped down from the roof she was running on and pressed her back to a wall for a breather, “What do we do?”

“Adaliz, you keep an eye on Miss Pauling,” the Medic ordered. She turned her attention from the earbud, “Miss Pauling…?” She looked around to find that she was all alone.

She darted up some crates to get back on the roofs. She darted back the way she came, her eyes darting this way and that. She searched frantically for the smaller woman, realizing that she might have already fucked up their mission.

“Miss Pauling!” she called out, hoping the woman might call back to her.

“Adaliz!” she was not expecting to run smack head to head into Tanner.

The two of them fell, but they managed to stay on the roof. They rubbed their heads and helped themselves to their feet. They were both fairly confused.

“Have you seen Miss Pauling?” Tanner asked, frantically, “She was here just a second ago, and then she disappeared. I don’t know what happened to her. I’m worried she might be hurt!”

“I was going to ask you the same thing!” she proclaimed, “She was just with me, and then she disappeared!”

“That’s odd, she was with me the whole time!” he insisted.

“Nuh uh, she was following me!” she argued.

The arguing was abruptly cut off by gunshots that missed them by a hair. Adaliz grabbed the other Scout’s hand and ran, leading him to the next roof and then into a window. They hurried inside and started to backtrack to the respawn room. If nothing else, they had to protect respawn.

“Medic!” she shouted, hoping the others were still tuned into their earbuds, “I lost Miss Pauling! Tanner lost Miss Pauling. We both lost Miss Pauling. We can’t find her. We’re coming back to you!”

“She’s right here,” Sofia replied.

“No she’s not, she’s at respawn with us,” Medic replied, “Regroup at respawn! We have to keep them out!”

“What?” that caught Adaliz up with confusion. That seemed too odd to be okay with.

“Then who’s with me?” Sofia asked. A gunshot pierced her last word and not another sound was made.

“Shit! Dammit!” she pulled the earbud from her head and darted off.

“What’s going on?” Tanner followed at her heels, “What did I miss?”

His pleas went ignored for a minute, as Adaliz tried to collect her thoughts. “I’m not sure, but it sounds like Sofia got killed by a fake Pauling,” she explained, “Whatever is going on, I don’t like it. We might have been followed by fake Paulings.”

“Scout!” a familiar voice caught both of them up.

“Miss Pauling!” both Scouts cried out in unison.

Miss Pauling was stumbling through some water, pulling herself out as she reloaded her shotgun. The front of her attire was coated in blood that had spattered everywhere. Her glasses were even crooked, as if she did not have the time to think about how tilted the world was in her visual perception.

“Oh thank God,” Miss Pauling breathed relief, “You guys…where are you guys headed?”

“To respawn,” Adaliz answered.

“They’re swarming the place,” Tanner added.

“We have to help the others,” Adaliz added with a nod.

“We have to go,” Miss Pauling insisted, “We have to leave.”

“Not without the others!” Adaliz exclaimed.

“We can’t leave without the team!” Tanner added.

“Of course not without the team, but we have to get transportation!” Miss Pauling pointed back the way she came with her gun.

Adaliz tightened her lips into a thin line, “How do we know you’re real?”

Miss Pauling gave them a disbelieving look, “What?”

“There seem to be fake Paulings around,” Tanner said, hesitating warily, “How do we know you’re the real Pauling?”

She sighed, “I don’t have time for this.” Miss Pauling turned and started back the way she came. “You two head to respawn. Get the others ready. I’m coming in with backup this time.”

“Miss Pauling?” Tanner called after her.

“Go!” she barked, before she started off again.

Jolted by the smaller woman’s response, Adaliz started running again. She could hear Tanner keeping up behind her. He was the stronger runner of the two, but that did not mean that they did not run together easily.

“Do you think she’s real?” Tanner asked.

“Huh?” Adaliz panted.

“Do you think that was the real Miss Pauling?” he asked, through heavy breaths.

“I dunno, maybe,” she tried to shrug, but was cut off as they hurried around a corner. They ended up faced with a group of those guys though.

“This way!” Tanner grabbed her wrist and they raced down a hall to the very end.

They came to a window where they used the strangely built frame to help themselves up to the roof. When they managed to stand up, Adaliz saw an entire swarm of men. She was in disbelief at the sheer number, let alone the mass of bodies they were leaving behind.

“Holy…” Tanner breathed.

“What are they?” Adaliz asked.

“I…I dunno,” Tanner admitted.

“We should get to respawn,” she turned to jump up to a higher ledge. Tanner followed suit, but he was slower, being the lesser agile of the two of them. Even so, that did not meant that they did not climb together easily.

They hurried across the roof, then slid down to where they would be caught on the top of a rundown old truck. They darted in one of the doors and hurried through the halls to reach the respawn. They were amazed to find that the others were just barely guarding the barrier. The barrier itself was down, with the door that normally forbade non-REDs to enter being wide open. There was nothing to stop anybody from getting in where their lockers were.

“Shelly, can you fix it or not?” the shorter of the two Medics shouted.

“What am I? Chopped liver?” Alan exclaimed.

“Everything’s burned out and shot, lads!” Shelly cried out.

“Can they get to the respawn?” the taller Medic raised his voice.

“Don’t let tiny baby men through!” the bigger Heavy roared over the revving of his minigun.

“Take ‘em down, boys!” the American Soldier cried out with jolly laughter. Beyond him was the other Soldier’s laughter.

“Not so simple,” Shelly called out, “But they managed to remotely shut down respawn’s door system!”

“I reckon we can outlast this horde!” Alan added, pulling down his helmet.

“Yea! We can take ‘em!” Tanner exclaimed, before charging out in front of the Heavy’s. He was almost immediately gunned down by the enemy.

“Adaliz? You helping?” Shelly asked, eyeing the Scout.

“Shell, Miss Pauling’s gone for backup!” she explained hastily.

“There’s about three dozen fake Miss Paulings amongst those fakes out there!” Shelly argued, “Don’t let yourself be fooled by one!”

“I don’t think she was a fake,” Adaliz argued.

“Adaliz!” Lucy called from the door, “We could use some help!”

“We’re losing footing!” the taller Medic cried out.

“Sentry going up!” Alan stepped just out of the gate to set up a sentry. It was shot down almost immediately. “Sentry down!”

Suddenly, Sofia appeared from respawn. She set on her feet and rushed out to join the others in the fighting. She looked angry, like she wanted to tear something apart. That was not a good sign on such a passive woman as Sofia.

“We’re here! I’m here!” Miss Pauling’s voice caught Adaliz by surprise.

“Miss Pauling?” Adaliz exclaimed with surprise. That was faster than she had expected, too fast even.

“Another fake!” the shorter of the two Medics shouted, turning and switching to their syringe gun.

“No it’s not! It’s me!” Miss Pauling exclaimed, before ducking behind a row of lockers.

“Nice try, lass!” Shelly took up her shotgun, ready to fire at the woman.

“Your backup has arrived!” a group of men, or rather an entire team and a half, started piling through the base door into the respawn, headed straight for the door to start defending.

With a mix of RED and BLU uniforms, the strangers were a confusing sight. They all seemed to fit right in, like they were a part of a unified team, despite their apparent binary alliances. Adaliz could not help but feel somehow amazed that all of these mercenaries had shown up to help them defend their respawn.

“Fall back!” Miss Pauling shouted, “We have to get out of here!”

“We have to protect respawn!” Alan protested loudly, as he reloaded his shotgun to shoot at the opposition.

“Respawn is done for! Anybody else dies…and they’re likely doomed!” Miss Pauling explained hurriedly.

“What does that mean?” Adaliz demanded.

“It means that Mann Co is working on shutting down your respawn. Any minute now, it will stop working. Anybody who dies after that is gone for good!”

Adaliz gasped, all of the hairs on her skin standing on end. “It can’t stop! Tanner is in there!” she shouted, growing panicked.

“Lucy too!” Shelly added, motioning to the Demoman’s dead body.

“We’re falling as fast as they send them!” the British Soldier came limping in to get healed by the Medics.

“We _have_ to defend the respawn,” Shelly protested, “We ain’t got much else if RED’s falling. If Mann Co won’t help us, then we’ll strike out on our own, but this here respawn is _ours_!”

“Miss Pauling,” Alan stumbled away from the frontline area and towards the woman he was addressing, “Miss Pauling, who sent them? Who? Who is doing this?” He just about grabbed her, he was in such a distressed state.

“Gray Mann,” she informed him.

“I knew it!” Adaliz exclaimed, for no real reason, other than to be heard.

“No you didn’t, lass,” Shelly informed her.

“Gray Mann can’t take over Mann Co,” the shorter Medic moved away from the frontline to reload their syringe gun, “We have Hale. He’s the current CEO of Mann Co, and he won’t let it fall. That means, as long as we _do_ our jobs and stick it out, we _have_ our jobs!”

“With a threat like Gray Mann, you bet we do, sister!” the American Soldier came trudging in with a big grin on his face.

Medic spared him an irritated frown, “That means, we hold our positions!”

Miss Pauling sighed with exasperation, “Medic, listen… Your contracts aren’t with Hale. Until about a decade ago, he was dead! Don’t know how or why he’s alive…but he’s working for Gray Mann too. In fact, all of you work for Gray Mann. None of you have a single contract with the Redmond or Blutarch descendants.”

“That’s impossible!” Medic scoffed.

“Yea? Check your contract! Gray is the only one in the Mann family who permitted women into Mann Co’s employ,” Miss Pauling said, almost forcefully. It was too forcefully.

“We do not have time for arguing about contracts and semantics!” a Soldier barked at them. It was not their Soldier, but rather a BLU Soldier. He had an entirely blue attire adorned with pretty professional looking medals. “We are going to be overrun and our trucks are waiting!”

“We have to leave now!” Miss Pauling agreed.

“How can we trust you?” Medic protested.

Miss Pauling seemed hesitant, unsure of how to respond. She looked around, seeing several faces with sets of eyes staring at her. All the while, they were switching out for others, trying to keep the opposition at bay. All the while, Adaliz felt guiltier for not being on the frontlines like Tanner was.

“Listen,” the Soldier stepped forward to talk to Medic, “We may not know each other, but I know war. I know loss. And I know that you’re looking out for your team. Well, I can commend that, soldier! But, no soldier left behind means that sometimes you have to make a retreat!”

“We don’t have any other respawn out there!” Medic protested, “We have to defend the point here!”

“Your contracts are up! There is no point to defend!” Miss Pauling protested, “Gray Mann has no intentions of renewing your contracts, that’s why he is sending…impressive looking Spies…to kill you!”

“If they’re all Spies, how are any of them so fast?” Tanner’s voice caught Adaliz off guard. She got so excited to see him alive that she forgot herself and hugged him.

A sudden beeping caught Shelly’s attention and her voice pitched high when she shouted, “Respawn is down!”

“Let’s get out of here!” Cletis roared, finally breaking up the meeting by darting off through the opposing door, back the way Adaliz and Tanner came.

“You sissies! No retreat! Fight like men!” their own RED Soldier was shouting.

“A good soldier knows when it’s time to fall back!” the BLU Soldier argued.

“You BLU sissies and your tree hugging crap!” the RED spat at him.

The other Soldier, Smith, looked rather puzzled by the exchange. He stayed away to the side, unsure of what to make of it. It was a little odd, considering they were both Soldiers. Then again, perhaps it was all because of sides and stuff. It made enough sense to Adaliz in that sense.

“Let’s move!” Adaliz did not have another moment to think before a hand grabbed her arm and she was being dragged off. The whole crowd of them were making their way back, heading quickly through the base. They had no time to go upstairs and pack. They had no time to stop and think about any of this, or where they were going. They were just moving, and suddenly out by a bunch of trucks where a whole other team of men were waiting for them.

Adaliz ended up hopping into the back of a truck with a Pyro and Shelly. There were several men in there with them, but the only other person that Adaliz recognized was the BLU Medic: Beatrice. The woman looked frazzled, unable to get up from where she was laying. Her eyes were wide, staring at the sky with a dazed look of bewilderment and disbelief. Adaliz wondered, from the looks of the woman’s long, usually well combed mane, if perhaps somebody gave her a huge shock.

She doubted it though, and turned her mind away from the German woman. She looked behind them, as the trucks sped away. They were leaving everything behind them. Their clothes, their belongings, memories and especially respawn. Respawn was probably one of the most important things to leave behind, considering it would save them from death time and again.

Surely respawn was not the only big important thing though. She thought about it for a while, trying to think of why she thought that. It hit her like a ton of bricks and she leaped from the truck bed screaming, “Nonna!”

Pyro caught her just in time, pulling her back into the truck and pushing her down onto the wheel well. She could tell that it was Yukina by the way she tried to be comforting, wrapping an arm around her and patting her shoulder. She even tried talking, but she did not seem to have her walkie talkie on her, so there was no use in that.

“Nonna…she’s still gone! She’s still lost!” Adaliz exclaimed, through tears that burned.

“Nothing we can do for her now,” Shelly pulled her helmet off in a solemn manner, “Right now, we have to get out and find out what’s going on.”

“Isn’t that what Miss Pauling was trying to tell us about?” she asked, whimpering through a sob.

“Yea, well…I don’t think I trust everything Miss Pauling has been saying,” Shelly explained, turning the helmet over in her hands.

“Since when do we distrust Miss Pauling?” Adaliz felt worry clench her gut.

She had always had faith in Miss Pauling, they all seemed to. Maybe after a rest and something to eat they could all sit down and talk this out. The others always seemed to get things figured out when they finally got to sit down and talk smart about things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't worry, Tanner doesn't die. Adaliz got really caught up in the moment, to the point that she forgot her girlfriend.  
> The team is kinda freaked out.


	31. Lumberyard Stop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cletis is found. Nonna respawns. Adaliz is in mourning. Alan is regretful. The team is safe but not okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter. I am transitioning characters from the previous series into this story, but most of them will go without name. Maybe you can guess who they are though. ;)

“What are we pulling off for?” Ash asked one of the men in the truck with them.

He shrugged and leaned over the edge, “Looks like a crashed car. Mann Co plates.”

“Oh shit…” they whispered, looking at the vehicle.

They pulled off and sent somebody to the driver’s side. The man moved away from the driver’s door and called out, “Medic!”

Ash leaped from the vehicle and trotted over. They were surprised to see that the driver had been the RED Spy, who had his face plastered against the steering wheel. As they looked closer, it looked like he just veered off of the road and hit his head when he was lashed around. As they began pulling him from the car though, they found that there was a bloody wound that could not be accounted for by bludgeoning.

They had only missed it before because it was on the right side of his head, but now they could see the blood was running down over his neck and shoulder, soaking his suit jacket. They felt panicked at seeing their friend in such a state. If he died this way there was no coming back, given that respawn was down.

A Soldier hurried over and helped Ash with the Spy’s legs. “We need to get him to a hospital, immediately!” was their first reaction.

The Soldier nodded in agreement as they carried him to one of the trucks. They carefully hefted him, while Jules opened the truck’s tailgate so they could slide him onto the bed.

“No can do,” an Engineer stepped in to speak, “We can’t go to any civilian hospital. We can’t even stay in one place long enough to get tracked.”

“Speaking of which, we need to hurry,” a Demoman added.

Ash climbed into the truck and laid their lab coat out. A few other mercenaries handed over their own jackets, given they did not need the layers, so that the injured Spy could be laid on something softer than metal. They laid him out and the trucks started moving again. Ash began to fret as they worked with the medkit they were given.

“This is not going to be enough,” they said, with frustration on their tone.

“It’s what we have for now,” a Demoman informed them.

“And what will we have later?” Ash demanded.

“Next we stop, I’ll set up a dispenser,” an Engineer informed them, “And we’ll have caught up with the others. They’ll have an ambulance full of supplies.”

“Others? There’s more of you?” Ash’s eyebrows rose higher.

“You bet,” the Engineer chuckled. He looked down at the Spy with a frown. “Least we managed to find him, instead of leaving him to die,” the Engineer assured them, “You’ll be able to keep him comfortable, whereas he would have died slow and painful.”

That made Ash’s nerves prickle. They felt the little hairs on their neck and arms stand on end. Fury rose up and they came up with just about a hundred things to say to him – in Japanese. They sat there, chewing on their lip, as they reasoned out what they could say in English to the Texan.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nonna breathed relief for a moment. Life giving respawn was a blessing all on its own. Probably the most important part was that she had died at all. Fish’s aim was so poor that it did not even seem to cause her an immediate death.

The pain was gone now. The trap was gone now. Clovis would be hard pressed to get back to base and stop her from escaping to safety. She could safely go to her friends and tell them what happened. After what she had been through, there was hardly anything left to stop her from giving away all of the information that she had. What did she care anymore? Gray was probably not even paying attention to this little project of a team. Miss Pauling could just deal with a team knowing the truth.

Her heart sank past her belly as she opened her eyes. This was not the respawn at the RED base. This was not where she was supposed to wake up at. She was at the Global Respawn.

She forced herself to take a breath and relax when she remembered that she was likely out of range to be picked up by the local respawn. Granted, this meant that she had to travel all the way back there, wasting even more time than was already wasted. Who knew what had happened already.

She strolled quickly from respawn, only to find herself face to face with a Miss Pauling. She was so surprised that she almost believed the disguise. She would have just let it slide right past her.

“Oh! Miss Pauling,” she blinked at the woman.

“Hello, Nonna,” was the awkwardly robotic greeting, “Mister Gray Mann would like to see you.”

That was the most piss poor act she had ever seen. Even without any kind of vocal changer, Clovis could have done better. She quickly grabbed the Spy’s shoulder, causing the disguise to become a bit smoky around her hand. She did not bother further as the Spy shook her off and yelled at her, because she did not care that much. She just wanted to show them that she knew exactly what they were, a poor excuse of a disguiser.

“This way!” the terrible Spy took a big step away from her, then headed down the hallway.

She followed at a leisurely stroll. She paused to pull out her disguise kit, only to find that it was not there. The disappointment lasted all of the way to the door, where the disguiser stopped to let her go in alone.

She looked the disguised Spy up and down before she strolled inside. Every sensation was frustrating, given the lights and the sounds were all fresh and loud. Being without access to it all left her feeling frazzled. However, when she walked through that door and into the dark room, she felt so at peace that she let out a breath of relief.

“Ahh…Nonna…” she heard Gray Mann’s unpleasant voice, “How nice of you to join us.”

She looked about the dimly lit room curiously. A few lights turned on, directly onto each of the people in the room: Wallace Mann, grandson of Redmond Mann; Malachi Gray, great grandson of Redmond Mann; Patrick Mann, son of Blutarch Mann; Marcus Mann, grandson of Blutarch Mann; Ferris Mann, great grandson of Redmond Mann; Barry Mann, grandson of Blutarch Mann; and finally there was Gray Mann. Seated in the middle of the long and arching table, Gray made himself the apparent head of whatever meeting was going on.

Suddenly, a light hit her and she felt her heart pounding in her ears. She wanted to close her eyes and cover her ears. She needed an escape, but there was nowhere to go. She had to stand there and take the heat.

“It’s disappointing to find that you’re… _here_ instead of with your team,” Gray noted, with a frown, “No matter though. We might as well get the contract aside before any other problems leak through the cracks.”

“Problems? Leak through the cracks?” she hesitated, her eyes swinging back and forth amidst the other men warily. Her eyes stung so badly from all of the light.

Gray’s tongue made a little snap sound, “Yes well…we have been discussing the point that your contracts have come to their conclusion and well…we need to rectify that, don’t we?”

His gnarled fingers pushed a sheet of paper forward, moving it towards her. She stepped towards the desk, moving out of the direct spotlight she was in and into Gray’s light. She looked down at the black and white sheet of paper and felt dizzy. There had to be at least ten or twenty pages in that contract, there was no way she could read it in this condition.

“We require you to sign it soon, so we can send you to take care of your coworkers’ contracts,” he explained to her.

“If- I…um…we…we have our contracts…it’s just a renewal of the previous ones, correct?” she asked.

“Oh, I assure you! Nothing new in there! Everything’s the same! It’s just a matter of time,” he explained, “Your previous contract was up in ten years, this one will have a definitive time. Nothing special.”

“Definitive time…” she mumbled, pretending to read the paper before her. She felt so dizzy that there was no way she could read it, as her grasp on the English language slipped ever so slightly. “Mind defining that?” she requested.

“Oh sure…for purposes of Mann Co Production’s current policy on contracting, this contract will last six months, or until death. We like to start contracts in early January, nowadays. This way it is easy to keep track of when every contract is up. As you can see, your team’s contracts fell through the cracks from not being…well…in January,” he chuckled to himself about that, “Now if you’ll just sign, I’ll have Miss Pauling give you the contracts to take back to your team. Make sure they sign them, and we can keep the project going.”

“Okay,” she murmured, as she picked up the pen he had laid out next to it. She flipped through each page, giving each line a scribble of her illegible signature. “There,” she finished the last page, then slid it back towards him.

“Excellent,” he snapped his fingers and the door behind her opened.

She turned to see the fake Pauling enter, with a briefcase. The terrible Spy brought the case to Nonna, putting the whole thing in her hands. Without a word, the Spy turned and left the room, as if nothing had transpired.

She paused, opening the briefcase to check inside. There were papers in there that were clearly identical to the ones that she had just signed, so there did not seem to be anything evidently suspicious about it. She closed the briefcase and turned back to Gray Mann.

“We are trusting you to get these contracts to the team immediately,” Gray said sternly.

She looked to him and nodded feebly, “Of course. I…you can count on me.”

He gave her a smile. Coming from him, it was not very encouraging. She was just glad that she could finally leave. When she escaped out the door, she let her head hang a little. The light out in the hallway was bright and overwhelming, so of course she longed to escape to her office.

She was glad to find that the Medic was not in there. She left the lights off and started covering the windows before she pulled the cot out from under her desk. It had been months since she was last here, but she trusted that everything was in its place. Since the Spy she was previously roomed with had been relocated to Canada, a Medic had been given the office space she shared.

For now, she was alone to lay between the two desks. She took the opportunity to grab the other’s cot, making her makeshift bed extra comfortable. She wrapped herself up in the blankets as she kicked off her shoes and plopped into the comfortable warmth. Sensations of softness and warmth brought pain in her chest, the kind of pain that brings a lump to the throat and a tear to the eye. She nuzzled her pillow and let her tears fall until she fell asleep.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash was relieved when they stopped, but they were not sure about the place they had stopped at. It looked like an old lumberyard, one whose abandoned status might be questionable. The machinery still left there looked like it might still have a function, and would have probably been shipped to an auction to make up for lost profits for investors, if it went under.

“This is where we’re staying at?” they asked, as they prepared the makeshift bed for moving. The Spy was completely still, slumbering so deeply that it made Ash worry. They tried not to think about it though.

“Just overnight, then it’s off to the mountains,” a Sniper explained.

“Why does this place give me the creeps?” Tanner asked, as he approached the truck to offer his assistance with moving the Spy, “I mean, this place just seems creepier than a regular abandoned place.”

“Maybe because you’re used to seeing old abandoned places that are supposed to spook people,” a Demoman stepped up to give the Scout a hand with the Spy’s legs. They were slowly sliding him off the edge, but Ash would not let them move quickly. “Maybe you are so used to that stuff that this normal stuff gives you the heebie-jeebies.”

“Maybe,” Tanner shrugged, pausing as Ash jumped down to the ground.

Ash carefully shifted the Spy, to take his torso. The BLU Soldier from before rushed in to help. They glanced from the BLU Soldier to Nyaga standing nearby. The woman just sort of stood by, watching with a wary eye.

“Alright, let’s move him to the halfway point of the yard,” the Demoman suggested, as they held the Spy up, “A Medic should be coming out to meet us. Sent a Scout in to get a stretcher.”

“Right,” Ash nodded to the two men they were looking at. They could feel the body of the Soldier beside them, holding carefully onto the injured body.

“Ready?” the Demoman asked.

“Go!” Tanner barked, trying to rush them.

Ash took careful and measured steps. They watched carefully for their feet, not wanting to cause a problem to the Spy by falling over because they were not careful of a stray piece of lumber. That and the last thing that they needed was a twisted ankle. They needed to be on their feet helping, not down on their luck with their own feet.

“Alright, stop! Stop stop!” the Demoman heaved a sigh as they came to what was apparently the halfway point. He jerked his head towards a pile of smooth plywood. “Let’s set him down.”

“No!” Ash exclaimed, “That’s wood! It’ll splinter.”

“It’s just a bloody plywood, woman!” the Demoman argued.

“Uhh…I’d be on your side man…cause this like hurts…but I’m on doc’s side. Doc’s orders, Spy doesn’t go on the wood,” Tanner said, a bit meekly.

“Here comes Medic,” the Soldier announced, with a jerk of his head.

They all raised their heads to look. Ash could have sworn they heard a unanimous sigh of relief as a tall man came running out with a stretcher on wheels. They probably could have waited at the truck, but with the Spy’s condition, he needed to be someplace stable. He needed to not be in a vehicle, he needed to be on a bed and hooked up to equipment. He definitely did not need to be in the elements, especially the elements that seemed to be threatening them overhead, with a distant rumble of an oncoming storm they had not experienced in all these months of being down here.

They shifted the Spy onto the stretcher the moment it was available to them. Ash sighed with relief. They had to admit that their arms were getting tired and sore from carrying a portion of the Spy’s weight. Before they could lose their thoughts in how they would up their daily routine workout, they turned to walk alongside the stretcher with the other Medic.

“He was found bleeding in his car,” they explained, “There is a possibility for concussion and whiplash, but I am most worried about the bullet wound. No sign of the bullet itself, I think it skidded off his cranium. He has been slowly bleeding since then, trickling more like. He needs an x-ray and a cat scan if we can get it. I have no doubt we’ll have to staple him. Do you have any oxygen? We need to get him stably breathing.”

The man gave her a perplexed look, “What?”

“She’s a doc, doc,” the Demoman came up from behind the other Medic.

Ash sighed with irritation and rolled their eyes. It was not worth the fight though, not now. There were more important things to focus their energy on. On the forefront of their mind was getting the Spy stable.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Shelly had had a lot of time to sit and think in the truck. She felt rather gross about all of the things she had to think about. All of the things that must be going on, if Pauling was right. If she was lying, pulling a fast one on them, then she was probably pulling a fast one on them before. Everything led to circles that went nowhere. Frankly, it made her want to puke with the sensation of being ill.

She felt lucky that Yukina came over to see her the moment they stopped. The Pyro hugged her and tried to say something to her, but she was not carrying the walkie talkie she usually used. Poor thing could not tell her what she wanted to say, given the mask muffled everything.

Chuckling, Shelly grabbed an earbud out of her pocket. She showed it to her, hoping the Pyro remembered her own earbud. She popped it into her ear and turned it on, hoping the others did not have theirs on as well.

“What is it, Yuki?” she smiled at the Pyro.

There was a whimpering whining sound as she wrapped her arms around Shelly again. Shelly could not help but give a hearty chuckle. She returned the hug and patted her on the back.

“It’s okay now,” Shelly assured her, “We’re okay now.”

“I was so scared,” Yukina said over the earbud.

“It’s alright now,” she assured her, “We’re safe. Our friends are safe.”

“Nonna’s missing,” Yukina interrupted her thoughts.

“What?” she was not taken aback too much by this. Nonna had been in her thoughts and had worried her before.

“And Sofia too,” Yuki went on.

“No, Sofia respawned shortly before we left,” Shelly argued.

“Then she went out and died again,” Yukina protested, “I saw her die! She’s back there! Respawn…”

“I know, hon. I-” she cut off and the two of them looked as Alan approached.

He was removing his helmet when he approached them, “I uh…can I have a word with you?” He motioned specifically to Shelly, which did not bother her too much.

She glanced at Yukina, giving her a pointed look. Without a word, the Pyro nodded and walked away. Shelly took a breath and turned to Alan. He probably had something on his mind that he wanted to get off of his chest.

“I um…Shelly, I have a confession to make,” his hands shifted on his helmet nervously.

“What is it?” she asked, not liking the thought of a confession.

Confessions were not a thing that she liked, not directly to her at least. The only confession she liked from the past twenty years was the confession Yukina made when she told her she loved her. She treasured that memory, but it was the only exception from her disliking for confessions. Probably because most confessions were one sided.

“I’ve been flirting with you for months,” his cheeks grew rosy red.

“I know,” she said, steeling herself to let him down gently.

“I ha- wait…you know?” he gave her a surprised look.

“Yea, I sure do,” she said, still holding back any negative reaction. She kept a small kind smile on her face, to show that everything would be okay. “You’re not too bright about subtlety,” she explained, “And it’s not hard for a woman to pick up on anyways.”

“Right,” he looked down at his boots. She felt bad that he had to hear it this way.

“Look…you’re a nice man and all, but-” she was cut off as he raised a hand to her.

“I’m sorry I been misleading you that way,” he said, placing his helmet back on his head, “The real confession is that it was…it wasn’t me.”

She chuckled, feeling awkward and alone with whatever this situation was. It felt like he was slipping the rug right out from under her, all while she was trying to let him down gently. The surreal moment did not end either.

“I don’t have those feelings for you,” he professed, “Sure, I got a bit of a crush for a while. You’re a pretty woman with a hardy attitude. Eventually a boy grows into a man, and he remembers what he’s up for. I uh…I wasn’t up for it to be real though. It almost got real…at least I hope it almost got real. And I am sorry for fooling you.”

“Lad, you don’t make a pint of sense,” she shook her head slowly.

He sighed, “I know…I um…I have been handling the team for years now…and I got a lot of people to fess up to. If you don’t mind. I gotta go talk to Heavy.” He started off in another direction.

Shelly shook herself, still feeling like a rug had been pulled out from under her, “Wait a minute! What is this even all about?”

“As I said, Miss Shelly,” he turned back to her, “I’m sorry for how all of this happened.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Alan,” she patted his shoulder, hoping to comfort him in his moment of feeling guilty.

“In part it was,” he argued, “I don’t just feel bad about it. I feel guilty that I’m here and Spy ain’t. I hate what I accepted every day. I fully regret that I put my trust in Mann Co.”

“Do you feel better for saying that?” she asked.

He shrugged, his head rolling a bit, “I dunno. Maybe. Perhaps a little bit. Why?”

“That’s how we’re all feeling,” she squeezed his shoulder, “Don’t you think I wish I was in Spy’s place? Don’t you think I would wanna help her? Don’t you think we’re all feeling real regretful about how we trusted a company so fully? I hate what we accepted too.”

He sighed and shook his head, shrugging off her hand, “It ain’t like that. It’s different.”

“I don’t see how it’s any different,” she shook her head.

He sighed, “I think I’m going to have to sit everybody down to tell ‘em.”

“Shelly!” Dr. Ash’s voice bellowed for her.

She turned to see the Medic waving from a doorway for her. “I’ll be right there!” she called back. She turned back to Alan, with a small frown. “Look, don’t fret too much,” she gave his shoulder a pat, “We’re gonna need your focus.”

“Right you are, Miss Shelly,” he tipped his helmet with a smile, “Thank you for settin’ me straight.”

She chuckled, “Just do your best to help out. We’re all hurting.”

With that, she headed off to help the Medic. She was probably needed to help fix some piece of equipment or set something up that they did not have. Maybe they wanted a dispenser or something. Whatever it was, it would take her mind off of whatever was troubling Alan. Though, perhaps the man could use the distraction too.

“Hey lad!” she called over her shoulder, catching his attention, “Why don’t you come with me? I might need a hand with this.”

With a smile and nod he followed after her. His gate being longer, he caught right up to her, then tried to stick with her pace. She noticed how close he was trying to stay to her pace, never letting on that he could not quite match her uneven gate.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Adaliz was sighing when the Pyro approached her. She looked so sad, like she needed hugs and a few colors to cheer her up. Despite being a hardcore tomboy, pictures of puppies and kittens always made Adaliz feel better. Yukina pulled out a pen and paper, doing her best to doodle a little puppy cuddling a kitten.

“Whacha got there, Pyro?” Adaliz asked, curiously.

She quickly finished the doodle and showed her. That created a small but unenthusiastic laugh in the Scout’s throat. She frowned at seeing that her efforts had not created quite the effect she had intended. She wanted to see Adaliz smile, not to be humored.

“Trying to cheer me up?” Adaliz gave her an appreciative smile. It was not quite the smile she had wanted, but it was a start. “What are you gonna be up to? Being the burning bug doesn’t give you a lot of duties right now.”

“I dunno, maybe I’ll try to cheer everybody up. They seem in low spirits,” she shrugged.

Adaliz gave her a look of uncertainty. It reminded her that she was not being heard right now. Despite not hearing her, Adaliz just turned her gaze away, as she leaned back against a truck.

“Yea, I think I am just going to stay out of everybody’s way,” the Scout said, as she folded her arms over her chest. She seemed rather low spirited, and Adaliz had a feeling that she was in the worst condition of all of them.

She glanced around at the others moving around them. They were unloading trucks and moving things along. They tended to bark at the occasional drunken Demoman or even the depressed looking Scout, but they did not seem to notice a Pyro. She just went unnoticed when it came to most things. She figured that was why she stuck around the doctor and Shelly the most, because they always paid attention to her.

“Yea, yea…I’ll help,” Adaliz grumbled at being called out for _slacking off_.

Yukina grabbed her arm and pulled her aside, away from the others. She ignored the protests, drawing her around a stack of lumber, where they were out of sight. Relieved to be away from those men who were more worried about what they were hauling, she pulled her friend into a hug. She dared not let go, for all of Adaliz’s wiggling, and it paid off as she started to hug her in return. It did not take long for Adaliz to break down into tears, her body shaking as she held onto Yukina’s.

“There there,” she spoke softly. Realizing that Adaliz could not understand her through the mask anyways, she switched to Japanese. “Everything is going to be alright. It’s okay. You’re okay. And we’re going to get through this together. I am going to be there, all the way to the end. Don’t worry.”

She paused to take off a glove. Her gloves were quite big for her soft little hands. It made her feel quite alien when she took off just the one glove to reveal her bare hand. She gently placed her hands against Adaliz’s back, one gloved hand holding her other glove, and the other moving up to stroke her hair.

Adaliz sniffled loudly as she hugged Yukina tightly, “Thanks Yuki.”

“You’re welcome, Adaliz,” she smiled, glad that she could help her friend, even if it was just to get the tears out.

She patted her friend’s hair as the earbud she was wearing crackled to life. Somebody had left the line live. She was about to tell them about it, when she heard what sounded like an apology. Alan was apologizing for something. As much as she wanted to be more respectful to them, she realized that she could not really say anything to Shelly, or else she would interrupt. It would be rude to cause them a disruption. Removing or turning off her own earbud was impossible without taking off the mask, so she chose to leave it alone.

“I just wish I knew what happened,” Adaliz whimpered.

“It’s okay, Adaliz,” she tried to sooth her, “We all do.”

“What if she got hurt? Or kidnapped? What if something really bad happened to her? She can’t tell us if she’s kidnapped or-” the poor thing cut off so abruptly that Yukina worried that she might be breathing.

She patted her back, then she pushed her away to touch her face. Breath touched her fingers, so she was definitely breathing. Her gaze had glazed over though, unaffected by the fact that somebody was patting her face. She stood with a frozen look of horror on her complexion.

She hesitated for thought. What would Shelly or Dr. Ashlynn do in this situation? One of them would have taken action. Shelly would perhaps take her by the arm and offer to sit down with her for drinks. Maybe a good ale would warm Adaliz’s belly and take her mind off of things. Then again, Dr. Harding would step in and say that alcohol was a depressant and would in fact _not_ remove the thoughts from one’s mind. Instead, she would take them aside, while still lending an ear to talk, and find some sort of distraction for them.

“I have such good role models,” she said to herself, with a happy smile.

She took the Scout’s arm and led her back to the trucks. She almost forgot about her bare hand before she pulled her glove back on. She grabbed some small things, putting some into Adaliz’s hands, and the two of them walked together, carrying smaller things into the lumberyard.

Sadly, though it gave Adaliz time to think and speak, this distraction did not last long. The others had been at it for a while, and unloading got wrapped up rather quickly. She had to find another distraction and fast.

She noticed Tanner tossing a ball into the air, while he talked with some other Scout who leaned on a makeshift crutch. She hurried over towards them, dragging Adaliz along, in hopes of using the ball. Tanner was a nice boy, he would no doubt be thrilled to lend them the ball. After everything they had been though, they needed something to take things off of their minds.

“So, then we got attacked by these big giant robots,” the apparently crippled Scout was saying, “They were big though. These Scoutbots were like ten times the size of regular Scoutbots!”

“How could you tell if you were-” Tanner cut off as Yukina came to a halt before them, with Adaliz just slightly behind her.

There was a moment of silence. Tanner looked from one woman to the other, a bit confusedly. Yukina opened her hand as she spoke, “Can I borrow that ball? I would like to play catch with Adaliz. She needs a distraction.”

Obviously not hearing her, he gave her a weird look and looked from Adaliz to the other boy. “Oh, this is the other Scout I was talking about,” he said, motioning to Adaliz.

“Oh really? The girl Scout?” the other Scout turned, but his eyes moved blindly.

Adaliz sighed in exasperation, “ _Yes_ I’m a girl! Why does every guy have to make a big deal about that? This is like the twentie- twenty first century! Women are mercenaries too now!”

“Wait…” the blind Scout blinked with a look of disbelief on his face, “You’re _French_?!”

“Wait, you’re American?!” Adaliz remarked sarcastically.

Tanner laughed, “Yea, she’s from- you’re not from Paris are you?”

Adaliz laughed, “Actually I am! Despite what you Americans think, not all of Paris is pretty night lights, Eiffel towers and lovers kissing outside of cafes.”

They all laughed, but Yukina just sort of stepped aside. Adaliz had a distraction now, as she began talking with the other Scouts naturally. The conversation went on as if nothing was happening; like nothing had traumatized any of them. She decided to leave Adaliz to her newfound distraction, making her way across the big open space inside of the apparent warehouse.

“What are you saying?” Shelly’s voice suddenly crackled to life on the earbud again.

Yukina remained silent as a voice came in from the background noise. “I’m saying that I knew…I knew all along,” the Texan accent was unmistakable. Then again, she almost wanted to doubt, having heard at least one other man speak with a Southern accent. “I…I know this seems bad…but I swear that I had nothing to do with whatever happened to the Spy…either Spy!” Alan went on, sounding a bit too familiar with Shelly to be any other Texan in the world, “I was just doing my job though. I was just keeping the secret. It seems _now_ , what with everything going down the way it is, you might as well know the truth. I would not keep you in the dark, and I apologize for ever letting it get this far.”

Yukina frowned as she listened. A secret? A lie? Something going wrong? There had to be some sort of conspiracy, that much was clear. She could not figure it out on her own though, as she pictured any situation Alan might be in to be apologizing.

“If this is true, then there is much more to answer for than just lying,” Dr. Harding’s voice came over the earbud. It was distant though, being picked up by Shelly’s device.

Yukina began to worry. He was talking to Shelly and Dr. Harding about all of this. They were definitely the right people to talk to, being very smart, but that also meant that something bad might be happening. If something was to be revealed on a larger scale, then it should be told to everybody.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yea, they're okay but not okay. Sofia is permanently dead. So are most of the members of the BLU team.  
> Trying to decide just how much Miss Pauling is going to tell.
> 
> I will be making a couple of stories for a separate series. They will focus on specific characters, occurring before and during this story. So, just a heads up that some characters are getting some in between They are Called Family and Don't Cross Mercenaries.
> 
> I already know one is going to be important for the family storyline, but it will be a very soft hearted, almost empty of action story.  
> Another is going to have more action and will focus on one particular character.
> 
> On a side note, I have kind of gotten my own pick of favorites. However, from what I've read in some comments (on various stories), some other characters seem to be more favored. I am curious. Who are your favorite characters and what do you like about them?
> 
> Also, a mention about the robots bases thing, that is definitely going to be important to the storyline, but will be a set of stories that come much much later in the plot.  
> And I know I've written some later stories first, but that was because I started with writing Men of Red and this huge plot came out of it.


	32. Disagreement and Discourse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth is coming out about Mann Co Productions, and Shelly and Ash have very different ways of reacting to it.

“You’re right,” Alan nodded in agreement.

Ash felt frustrated at the man’s amiable behavior. He was being easy to get along with, which made it harder to just be angry with him. A rational and logical person would reason things out with such a pleasant man, but they just wanted to shout at him angrily.

“You lied to us, you manipulated us, you betrayed us!” they went on, trying to make him stiffen his attitude, even just a little.

He cringed under the pressure, “You’re right…I guess I did. I can only admit I was wrong. I am truly sorry. I am sorry I ever had dealings with it all.”

“How does Mann Co go from hiring mercenaries to fight over property to hiring mercenaries to play on a television show?” Shelly demanded. She had been pretty disbelieving of all of this.

“Does it matter? The politics of the company are hardly anything I look into,” Alan said, somberly, “If I had any smarts though, I wouldn’t have dealt in it in the first place.”

“You’ve got quite the fast-” Ash was cut off as the door opened and Miss Pauling stepped inside.

“Ah! Miss Pauling!” Ash proclaimed, with a pleased smile.

“How’s he doing, doctor?” Miss Pauling pointed to the Spy on the makeshift bed.

Ash looked over at the comatose man and sighed. He was on oxygen now, but he was no better in condition. They already wanted to move him again, to transport him early in the morning to a new location.

“Not any better,” they finally answered.

“Miss Pauling,” the name came off of Shelly’s tongue in an odd manner.

“Yes?” Miss Pauling turned to the red headed Engineer with eager tone.

Shelly took a few wobbled steps towards Miss Pauling as she spoke, “Mind clearing a few things up for us?”

Miss Pauling blinked at her, then looked around the room. She looked back to Shelly and said, “I suppose I could clarify things.”

Alan cleared his throat and stepped forward, helmet in hand, “I told them about Mann Co Productions. All of it. Just these two though. I haven’t gotten around to telling the rest. They’re taking it fairly well to be honest. Haven’t offered to take my head off.”

Miss Pauling nodded to him, then glanced between Shelly and Ash, “It’s true. We had to keep it secret. Contracts with Mann Co are binding for life or death.”

Ash shared a look with Shelly. Neither of them had to be reminded of just how dangerous it was to cross Mann Co. A broken contract led to a bounty on one’s head. Having been around dangerous people before, Ash was no stranger to the concept of being wanted dead.

“We kept secrets to protect people,” Miss Pauling went on, “It wasn’t all about saving oneself. I put a lot of faith in Alan back when the switch happened…and I’m sorry to say that I put a lot of trust in some who should have never been given an inch. I have made many mistakes, some of them knowingly, and I have many regrets. To put that to rest-” Miss Pauling drew herself up in a proud manner, holding herself almost like a Soldier might. “I am going to take down Gray Mann and strip his entire company’s power!”

Shelly seemed unenthused, uninspired and certainly unimpressed, “A lot of talk for a mousy woman.”

Miss Pauling frowned at her, “Where is this coming from?”

“From you know damn well where from!” Shelly said, with frustration.

“Shelly, I know you’re upset but-” Miss Pauling cut off as Shelly raised a wrench at her.

“Listen, don’t put the blame on Miss Pauling,” Alan stepped between the two women, defending Miss Pauling from the wrench wielding Irishwoman.

“Easier to see how much wrong she’s done,” Shelly’s eyebrows drew down heavily, “You may have lied to us and manipulated us…but even for the worth of your life alone, that’s not worse than the sheer number of teams she has been dealing with.”

Ash gave a shake. They needed to be in the moment and aware. They were gawking up until this point, barely participating in what was going on. It was time to respond to Shelly’s actions and Alan’s as well.

“Shelly, that’s enough!” they barked.

The woman’s expression cleared right up, as she turned her head to give them a confounded look. She seemed to have though that Ash was just going to let her attack Miss Pauling, or perhaps join in. They did not know which, and they never wanted to know which.

“Right now we are down a respawn system. We have no backup supplies. We have no food or water, and medical supplies are being given to us by total strangers. We owe those men out there our thanks, and Spy’s life. If you start turning on Miss Pauling, who is no doubt leading this parade, then you turn your wrench on the very hands that helped you,” Ash explained, in a rational and straightforward manner.

Shelly took a deep breath and let the wrench slide back into her belt. She hung her head, the brim of her helmet sliding down over her eyes.

“Fine, but that doesn’t mean I trust her!” Shelly barked, her hands gripping into angry fists.

Ash frowned. They had never seen one of their own become so angry with miss Pauling. Then again, she was not sure she had seen Shelly being angry with anybody off of the battlefield. It was always something that came with the heat of the battle, not something that could be equated to a moment of clarity and reason.

“You came to recruit us then?” Shelly lifted her head to Miss Pauling.

Miss Pauling’s lips were thin lines, “I came to save you. Yours would be the first team attacked.”

“Why?” Shelly pressed, a bit breathily.

“Think about it,” Miss Pauling raised her hands, “Women have only been fighting with Mann Co’s employ since the eighties. Very few slipped through the cracks before then.”

“What? You’re saying we’re the unwanted?” Shelly demanded angrily.

“I’m…” Miss Pauling sighed, her head falling forward, “Well, as far as Gray is concerned, yes that is the truth. That is the straightforward truth. I cannot deny that my efforts in reshaping Mann Co’s hiring habits has forged the way things have been for the past thirty or so years.”

“You’ve been involved with Mann Co from the start though,” Ash argued.

“Before it was a television show, it was always the argument of _’men are stronger fighters’_ and _’men don’t cry like women on their periods’_ and the classic but stupid as hell _’men get sentimental when they work around or against women’_. Of course, once it is a show, you want to give the viewers something interesting. A sentimental man fighting against women is interesting.”

“What’s changed, if it is a television show now?” Shelly demanded.

“Well, the efforts that Gray has been making have slowed me down significantly,” Miss Pauling offered, “And I already know that he doesn’t care for the show. He does not even care about the money anymore. He wants something much much bigger than all of that.”

“What does he want?” Alan asked.

She looked from one to the other. She took her time and a deep breath, “I can’t tell you…not yet anyways.”

Shelly glared with irritation, “Of course you can’t. How convenient! Wouldn’t be any other way, would it, lass?”

“Shelly,” Ash hissed, hoping to get their friend to calm down.

“So…Gray’s up to something?” Alan asked, placing his helmet on his head, “I mean, I wouldn’t put it past him. I never woulda been working for him if you didn’t have my confidence, Miss Pauling.”

“I appreciate that but…” Miss Pauling got this look about her. It seemed a lot like shame. “The truth is that Gray’s been up to it all along,” she finally came out with it.

“What do you mean?” Alan furrowed his brow, “If he was up to anything, then wouldn’t he have done it already?”

“He’s a patient man,” Miss Pauling looked at the floor, with a somber look on her face.

“So you have known about this all along?” Shelly declared angrily.

“No! I mean…not entirely!” Miss Pauling replied defensively, “I’ve known about… _something_ …for about fifteen years now. I have been trying to stop it, but all I can really do is move the pawns around.”

“The wittiest war leader knows how to play the pieces,” Ash nodded thoughtfully.

Miss Pauling gave them a nod, “Yes of course, but I’m afraid that Gray has stayed several steps ahead of us. We keep falling into grave danger and there is not an end in sight.”

“Not without ending Gray, I reckon?” Alan asked.

“Not without ending Gray, no,” Miss Pauling shook her head.

“So, new job?” Shelly growled, “Off with his head then?”

“It’s not that simple or easy,” Miss Pauling replied.

“And why not?” Shelly challenged.

“I’d say it’s a good idea,” Alan commented, with a firm nod.

“Oh shush up! You were admitting to knowingly working for him not ten minutes ago!” Shelly growled.

“Shelly that’s enough!” Ash barked.

“I don’t think it is!” Shelly spat back at them.

“Shelly, I will not have your temper in here,” they gave a sidelong glance at the sleeping Spy. Poor man was completely unaware of what was going on around him, but they would use him fully as an excuse. “You can have your moments of exploding on the battlefield. _Not_ in here! Am I understood?”

Shelly had a look like she was taken aback, “But doc-”

Ash waved a hand to cut her off, “Not in here. Wipe the attitude off.”

There were a few moments of silence. Shelly stared at her in disbelief for that time, until she finally seemed to concede. Relieved, Ash turned to Miss Pauling. The woman seemed to be relieved that the possible rage fit had passed as well.

“I don’t fully understand what is going on here, but I would like to,” they explained to her calmly, “For the respect and confidence of my team, I need more information than you are giving. While you have had my confidence for years, I cannot hold that of others if you expect us to follow blindly.”

Alan nodded in agreement, “We all deserve the _truth_ , Miss Pauling!”

Miss Pauling looked from one person to another. There was something like disappointment on her face. She was definitely not confident about sharing what she knew with them. Ash doubted they would get anything out of her if she thought it would be shared with all of them.

“Surely you can spare a tidbit of truth to this small group,” Shelly urged.

Miss Pauling hesitated again. She remained in silence. She shifted from foot to foot, as she seemed to grapple with the issue.

“Let’s…” Ash interrupted their thoughts, bringing all eyes to them, “Let’s all sleep on it for now.”

“Sleep on it? No!” Shelly exclaimed.

“I’m with Shelly on this,” Alan nodded in agreement.

“There’s no deserving the time to think on it, for this one,” Shelly motioned to Miss Pauling with her eyes.

“Shelly, you’re angry,” Ash said, “And you’re building up again. Go rest. We’ll talk about this later. For now…” They sighed, pausing to run their fingers through their hair, pushing back the short blond locks. “Look, everybody has been through a lot of stress today. Everybody is freaking out. Nobody wants what’s happening. Do us a favor and don’t tell anybody what we talked about here.”

“What? Why?” Shelly exclaimed, staring at them with disbelief.

“Because they need rest and I need to think,” Ash said firmly.

“I may have already told one other,” he said, “Only other person who’d listen.”

“Who’d you tell?” Ash tried to inventory all of the people he might have told, in their head.

“The Heavy,” he replied.

“Demyan?” they were surprised at the answer.

“Nah, your gal,” he shook his head.

“Oh…Nyaga…” Ash rubbed their chin for thought.

“You’re not honestly suggesting we leave everybody in the dark about this, are you?” Shelly asked, sounding a little desperate.

“Only for now,” Ash turned their attention to Shelly again, “They need rest. They need to regain composure. They need to cry. When the dust settles, we’ll tell them.”

“I never intended to keep anybody in the dark,” Miss Pauling spoke up, “I was going to tell everybody tonight.”

“Not tonight,” Ash shook their head, “Tonight they have too much on their minds that they need to process.”

“So, leave them to wonder what’s going on?” Shelly almost scoffed.

“Shelly,” they made sure their voice was calm and soft, “We have already lost Nonna and Sofia. We have a comatose Spy, whose condition may significantly worsen if we don’t get proper medical equipment for him. We all have a lot on our minds. They need to settle for at least tonight.”

“I won’t sleep well without answers,” Shelly stated, firmly.

Ash took a breath before speaking, “And the truth might make it more difficult.”

Shelly huffed, “Fine.”

Ash nodded, “We’ll wait one night. Then the others will know what we know.”

“And the rest?” Shelly glared pointedly at Miss Pauling.

“The rest will be a problem for another night,” Ash said firmly.

“Alright,” Alan nodded, conceding to do as Ash had requested.

Miss Pauling nodded, before sheepishly making her way out the door to the main area. Alan followed her, with Shelly hurrying to catch up to his pace. She seemed more ready to be away from there than Miss Pauling and Alan.

That seemed like enough reason to keep her behind to talk, “Shelly, could you stay for a minute?” Alan and hesitated to glance back as Shelly stopped. “I could use a hand with something.”

Alan continued out and Shelly hobbled towards Ash. They were quiet at first, waiting to be sure that the other two had left. They did not want to be disturbed in the middle of talking with their friend.

“What do you need?” Shelly asked, a bit irritably.

“Shelly, what’s gotten into you?” Ash asked, finally letting a bit of frustration escape into their tone.

“Me? What’s gotten into _you_?! You’re protecting her when she’s betrayed us! I can forgive Alan. He was doing something that seemed to be protecting his life and others.’ But give me one good reason we should trust Pauling!” Shelly raised her voice a bit angrily.

Ash was silent for a moment, hoping the mere sound of no voice would drive home a bit of thought for their friend. They did not want to fight. They did not want to fuss with their friend over nothing. They needed Shelly’s support, now more than ever. Shelly was the only other teammate they could count on to be smart about things all of the time.

“I’m not protecting Miss Pauling,” they spoke more calmly now, “I am protecting our team.”

“From what? Right now, we have a load of other mercenaries to worry about! We don’t know what they want from us, or what they’ll do to us if we don’t give it!” Shelly exclaimed.

Ash flinched with surprise. They had never heard this kind of complaint from Shelly before. She never voiced any kind of fear of most other mercenaries. Then again, if she had a lot of feeling it was either affectionate or angry.

“You’re right, we don’t,” Ash took a step closer to take Shelly’s shoulders, “We don’t have much choice. We were being attacked. And a good bit of common sense sees human decency in the men who would put themselves on the line in a heartbeat to get another out of trouble. We don’t necessarily owe them our lives, but we sure as hell aren’t dead now, are we?”

There was a moment of hesitation. Shelly’s gaze went elsewhere. She seemed uncertain about all of this.

“I know you know better,” Ash went on, “I know you know the delicacy of our team when put under pressure. It’s taken more than a little willpower to make it through hardships in the past. We’ve made it this far though, and we’re going to keep moving forward.”

“That’s a nice little speech,” Shelly commented, just a bit snidely, “But do you really think that keeping this from the others is going to _protect_ them?”

Ash’s lips tightened, “Listen to you! You’ve found out the truth and now you’re back at square one! It’s like we hardly know each other! Sizing one another up. Looking to see who’ll give first. That is not the Shelly I know! That is the Shelly I remember from a distant time when I could barely speak her language!”

Shelly’s attitude broke with a smile and a chuckle, “You did talk funny back then.”

Ash offered her a smile, “And it took us a long time to get to know each other, as well as to trust each other like we do.”

Shelly frowned, seemingly to herself. She shifted a bit, probably easing some weight off of that bad leg. She did not want to meet Ash’s gaze after that.

“Shelly look at me,” Ash demanded.

Shelly was hesitant, but cautiously met Ash’s eye. “I don’t…I trust _you_ but I don’t trust _her_ ,” Shelly said.

“And I understand,” Ash nodded, “But think of how quickly you changed your mind about everything. You don’t trust Miss Pauling. You’re angry. You want to start a fight.”

“That’s not what I said!” Shelly exclaimed, “I didn’t once tell ya I wanted a fight!”

“It’s in your attitude,” Ash chuckled, shaking their head, “What bothers me is that some people don’t have the logical mind you do. Nor do they have the good sense to calm themselves down. You started acting out…what do you think _they’ll_ do if we tell them straight out? You know they’re still trying to process what happened today. Not to mention how Adaliz must be feeling. Poor thing has been moping since we lost Nonna. And now Sofia?”

Ash let their face relax. Sofia was not necessarily a good friend to them, but she was a teammate. She was a kind woman, with a good heart. While they never agreed on world views and perspectives, they could always agree that kindness and helpfulness were more important than being right. Not to mention the family Sofia would be leaving behind.

Sofia was probably the last of them all who had _any_ family she could have reconnected with. Just thinking about that made Ash want to go and let her kin know. Knowing that most mercenaries usually disappeared, giving Sofia’s family a chance at closure seemed like the best thing.

“I…I don’t even want to think about it,” Shelly said, averting her gaze again.

“I know,” Ash spoke softly.

“I don’t want to remember that last look,” Shelly shook her head, as if trying to shake the memory out of her brain.

“I know,” Ash squeezed her shoulders, “For all the losses we could have incurred…for all our friends…we have to be smart about this. If Miss Pauling is right, Gray Mann is a greater threat to us than she could ever be. With money and power, the man has influence beyond any of us. No doubt a man hunt would come after us for assassinating him.”

“What about all of that show business?” Shelly asked.

“Show business? Ah…right…the show,” Ash sighed, “Perhaps Miss Pauling can give us some insights into that.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

The night was harsh, as a storm rolled in. It would have been refreshing, if not for the stress the lot of them had been under lately. The cold swiftly pulled in and the winds beat against the lumberyard’s buildings.

Cowering in a corner with the rest, Jules felt overwhelmed by the sheer number of bodies around him. He would not voice a complaint though. They were all cold, tired and wanting for a more comfortable situation. They had grown comfortable with the base, with the walls they had solidified and made better over time, and its furnished areas. They had long since had it filled with creature comforts, and they were used to those.

At least, he was used to those things. Some of them seemed to take well enough to the warehouse’s uncomfortable situation. With only lumber to use as furniture, there was nowhere soft to sleep, yet Lucy and Cletis both easily made a bed on the planks of wood. Jules himself tried to make himself seem comfortable, having broken up some wood to use as kindling.

It was easy to seem at ease, but difficult to forget those creature comforts they left behind in the base. For now, he sat by the warm fire, with the others who huddled near it for warmth. The building was too big and poorly insulated to warm thoroughly. The only way to stay warm was for all of them, strangers included, to huddle around the fire closely.

Uneven steps caught his ear as the red headed Engineer came limping over to the fire. She carefully sat down on the floor, between two other Engineers, one he knew and one he did not. Both of them seemed to avoid looking at the woman. Jules did the same by turning his eyes to the floor.

The sound of voices caught his attention and he looked up to see all of the Scouts approaching the huddled group. They were all talking and laughing as if they were old friends. They got along easily.

He wished he could get along that easily with people. He was nice enough sure, but he never felt easily connected with people like that. He could never just get comfortable with people, and them with him. He had to be an awkward outdoorsman.

That had not deterred Sofia though. That broke his heart a little. She was a sweet woman, with a kind of patience that it took to be friends with Jules. He would have given the fingers of his right hand to have her there with them, tossing jokes at each other, pretending they were not shaken up.

They had left her body behind. That much had been made clear to him before he even got in the trucks. He remembered trying to go back for her, daring to fight off the men who kept coming like demons.

“You alright, boy?” an Engineer called to him from across the fire.

His eyes turned to the Engineer and he felt stumped. It was the same man who had stopped him. It was the man who had grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the truck, telling him that it was no use. At the time he could have beat the man senseless with the butt of his rifle, had it not been for the trucks leaving. He had not gotten into the truck because he believed him, and believed that Sofia was dead. He got into the truck because he was a coward, and no death of Sofia’s made any difference.

“Give him time,” the Engineer he knew said, shifting on the makeshift bench made of lumber, “Leave him with his space.”

“Bloody hell,” a Sniper growled nearby. From his accent he was no doubt Australian too. Jules looked at him briefly and he took it as his moment to pipe up about something. “The one chance we had to get a bloody spook and the only one’s a vegetable!”

Shelly cleared her throat, bringing some attention to her as she turned in her seat, “I would thank you to not talk that way about Spy.”

“I ain’t offending the man! He’s comatose! His brain’s practically vegetation!” the Sniper threw his hands up with exasperation.

“You don’t have to be a dick about it!” Adaliz picked her foot up and kicked the Sniper with the bottom of his shoe.

Taken by surprise, the Sniper fell forward. He barely caught himself before he turned to the Scout. He hesitated though, seeing that she had several other Scouts behind her.

“You _could_ be nicer about it,” the Scout on crutches offered, with a shrug, “Just saying.”

“It doesn’t matter,” the Sniper turned and sat back down, giving up on the offered fight.

“Whatever happened to the BLU Spy?” Adaliz asked.

“Three kinds of dead,” a Demoman piped up.

“And never getting up!” another Sniper nodded in agreement.

The Sniper who had started this sighed, letting his head sag forward. He seemed like he was ready to give up. It was like all hope had been lost in his mind. Perhaps it was and he was just unable to voice it. It was certainly how Jules felt about the whole situation.

“We’re all feeling pretty down about this situation,” Adaliz hopped over the lumber to sit next to the offending Sniper. She did not even seem to pay mind to the fact that she had just put her foot on his back a minute ago. “We’re all trying to deal with this. We just…it makes things harder if you put it in a rude way,” she offered.

Her words sounded rather nice and reasonable to Jules. It seemed best to handle this in a graceful manner. After all, they were all stuck in this situation. Jules himself would not like to think of his friend as a vegetable either. Thinking about it made his throat hurt.

“You’re all peachy,” the offending Sniper growled irritably.

“Pfft! Peachy?” Adaliz laughed.

“So you got attacked at your own base. Big whoop,” the offending Sniper grumbled.

“Oh yea? What are you challenging me with then?” Adaliz asked, with that offended tone crawling back into her voice.

“I ain’t challenging you! You ain’t the one here whose family relies on the success of this damn mission!” the Sniper spat in her face. Everybody was watching them now, some sharing Jules’ feeling of horror for the girl. “And you would best watch _your_ mouth, if you wanna keep that pretty face of yours!”

Adaliz shot to her feet in an instant, with her hands balled into fists. Her face started turning red and Jules could have sworn that her eyes took on the glow of a bull’s eye. She was practically frothing with anger.

“It’s not worth it,” his own team’s Scout put a hand on her shoulder and drew her away from the fire.

The Scouts retreated moving away from them. The group around the fire had fallen to silence. They seemed to refuse or otherwise fear speech. Perhaps they were afraid of upsetting the offended Sniper, or further offending somebody else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shelly has been a very soft spoken type of person, but she was not always that way. This is the first in a long time that she has been honestly angry with Ash.  
> She also knows that Ash has a temper and she won't bring this down to one of those old squabbles.
> 
> Hope you like the character mentions. I don't want to confuse anybody, so I will stick with the already introduced characters.


	33. Medical Discourse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Being a good doctor isn't always easy.

Nyaga entered the room to find Medic hovering over the unconscious body. They seemed so worried. They seemed so alone and so tired. They were probably not even taking care of their own health.

“Doctor?” she was hesitant. Her voice caught the Medic’s attention rather quickly though.

“Oh! Nyaga,” that brilliant smile directed at her, “Nice to see you. I’m glad you came in. I was recently talking with Shelly and Alan.”

“I know,” Nyaga nodded. There was not much she needed to say or hear really. She did not know what she had expected when she stood by the door, but she was used to just being around where the doctor was. When she heard the other voices, she figured there was an important discussion to stay out of, but the door was rather thin and easy to listen through.

She had listened to everything and taken it in. She knew why it had to be the Medic and the Engineer, they were the smartest on the team, with the most rational minds of them all. There was just a little jealousy that she would not have been the Medic’s first choice for trusting with this information.

She did not come in until she knew that the others had gone already. She wanted to talk to the Medic alone. She was not mad. Quite the contrary, she was feeling more proud of her Medic than she was mad about the situation.

“So, you uh…you know about Mann Co…Productions?” Medic asked hesitantly.

Nyaga nodded, “Yes.”

She watched as the Medic laid a hand on the Spy. They had all of this hope and want in their body. They wanted so badly to heal him and bring him back. It was that feeling of hope and love for others that let Nyaga know that the Medic would stop short of nothing to help the Spy.

“I’m so sorry, but…we need to keep this quiet,” Medic went on, “It’s not like we’ll keep everybody in the dark forever. It just has to be this way for a little while. Just until everybody can cope with the details. It’s all…it’s a lot to take in. Isn’t it?”

Nyaga nodded, but she thought contrary. It was not as if her job was any different than it had been before. It was not like they put cameras where they were not supposed to, at least as far as Nyaga was aware. It was not as if they had _taken_ their privacy. Those who worked for Mann Co had agreed from the very beginning that the cameras were fine. Even those who were somewhat opposed had eventually accepted them, given the insights that the Administrator could provide.

Having been given the information directly from Alan, she felt rather confident about it all. She was not mad with Alan, since he was just doing a job he was told to do. Sometimes people have to do jobs they are told not to tell anybody else about.

Miss Pauling was also just doing her job. They were still confident that she was with them one hundred percent. It was not like she would suddenly turn her back on them. She just did what she had to. As far as Nyaga was concerned, the words she had spoken in that exchange between the four of them, she had the desperation of somebody who was truly trying her best to keep people alive and safe.

“We have to keep everybody calm in the meantime,” Medic went on without missing a beat, “You understand, right?”

Nyaga nodded when they looked her way. They smiled at the nod and took a calming breath. They seemed much happier, maybe even chipper. Maybe they just needed to talk it out and get all of these thoughts out of their head.

It was not uncommon for Medic to get stuck in their head. They took many burdens, some of which nobody else saw but Nyaga. She would stay there with Medic and listen all day to their woes, if only to make those burdens a little easier to handle. Though sometimes she was wary that the doctor was hiding things, keeping secrets even from her, she would forever trust her Medic.

“Perhaps we should turn in for the night, yea?” Medic suggested, “Spy isn’t going anywhere. If he wakes up, I think he-”

Suddenly, the door opened. The two of them turned to see a Soldier dressed in blue uniform. He hesitated, noticing that the two of them seemed to be in conversation. He looked down at his feet awkwardly, his helmet tipping a bit as he directed his gaze away.

“Is there something I can help you with, sir?” Medic asked, hesitantly.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Adaliz rubbed her arms. She kept walking with Tanner and the other guys, but she felt so alone. She needed some help. She needed somebody real to talk to.

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Tanner assured her.

“I…” she wanted to say that she knew that, but she did not. She did not know that everything would be fine. In fact, nothing could be fine as long as she did not know if Nonna was dead or alive. “I want to go home.”

What was home for her anymore felt vastly different from what it used to be. She was not even sure that it was a place for her. When she was growing up, home was a small place in the bad part of the city that tourists avoided like the plague. When she moved to America and got used to it, home was a corner in a room, where she kept a stack of comic books, stuffed animals, blankets, and albums full of family pictures. When she really became part of this team, home became a person called Nonna.

“You’ll be okay,” Tanner squeezed her shoulder.

“Yea, but what about Nonna?” she asked, her voice getting a little high in pitch, due to her growing want for tears.

Nonna would probably tease her in French for her tears. She would give her a hard time, if only just to get Adaliz’s mind off of the real problem. It was in private that Nonna was a real person, her real home. Comfortable hugs, a soft voice that could change between various dialects with ease, and a side that she did not show to others – the side that liked to wear baggy t-shirts and slouch on the bed – those things made Nonna her home.

“Well…you said she was a Spy, right?” one of the other Scouts asked.

She cleared her throat, “She _is_ a Spy!” She was firm in her words, not wanting to give up on Nonna just yet.

“Right,” the Scout replied, “She could be anywhere! I mean to say that, if she’s not here then she’s somewhere. She’s probably alright.”

Adaliz closed her eyes and nodded. She liked those words. They were a comforting thought that she could probably sleep to.

“I’m uh…I’m gonna go turn in,” she turned and waved to them as she started towards a barren spot of lumber perched high overhead. She could see an easy way up to it, and it would be a good place for her to be, to get away from the others.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash was a little concerned about the man who had just entered the makeshift medbay. He seemed really hesitant and unsure of himself. She knew she had seen him before, but he was much different now. In fact, he was much less bold and brawny like a Soldier and feebler like something else.

“I um…I feel like I know you from somewhere,” the Soldier spoke hesitantly.

Ash hesitated, then cleared their throat, “I suppose it is possible that we have met before.”

Nyaga turned more towards the man and plucked his helmet off of his head. He was surprised and looked up at Nyaga with confusion. She gazed at him for a moment, before turning to Ash.

“He’s one of your patients,” Nyaga stated.

“He is? How do you know?” Ash asked, “I’m usually not this bad with memory.” They strolled towards the two of them, closing the space between them.

“The one with the PTSD and memory issues,” Nyaga pointed to the man’s head, “You had him on pills for the hallucinations.”

“Your pills work!” the man’s attitude suddenly jumped up as he became rather chipper, “I haven’t had a hallucination in a w- no wait…a…hmm…”

“I haven’t treated anybody for PTSD outside of this team in over seven years,” Ash told him, “You couldn’t have gotten pills from me in that time.”

“I forget…I don’t think I got anymore pills. I think I ran out,” he frowned at the floor as he tried to puzzle out his issue.

Ash thought about it for a minute, and found it rather easy to drag out the memory. He did not have a very memorable face, but he had a very memorable personality. He was friendly, if often forgetful of his surroundings. It did not take much to make him happy. Though, now that they thought about it, it seemed like something was off, as most of his visits had been accompanied with one other person.

“Didn’t you used to come in with somebody?” Ash asked, “A Spy, I think?”

His frown went from concentration to sadness. He did not immediately look up from the ground. Instead, his gaze lingered on the floor. When he finally did meet Ash’s eyes, they caught a hint of tears on his corneas.

They cleared their throat and looked to Nyaga for guidance. They were not sure why he was crying. Maybe he was having a bad memory. Maybe he had a headache. They should be able to just ask him and settle it, but they did not feel in the right mindset to offer more kind guidance to yet another person.

They turned their eyes back to him. He had come here knowing he would find a Medic. He must have come in here seeking medical assistance. They would have to put aside their exhaustion and personal thoughts, for the sake of another mercenary.

“Is there something I can help you with?” they asked, straightening their back.

“I just…thought I recognized you,” the man replied, “I just couldn’t remember where.”

Ash sighed, a bit relieved that there was nothing specific they would need to do. They were not up to dedicating another hour to work at the moment. Maybe this could be cleared up in ten minutes. They offered a smile, which they hoped was comforting for him.

“Well, now you know. I treated you for PTSD and hallucinations. You were on a clinical treatment that had come fresh from the medical community…” their words trailed off.

As they recalled, the man had said he had not taken any pills in the past seven years at least. He had probably been longer without medication for his ailment. The treatment was supposed to help him improve, but that should have been with years of utilizing the treatment and retraining his brain’s processes.

“How are you feeling now?” Ash asked.

“To be honest?” the man looked at his feet again, as if ashamed.

They remembered him now, clearly. He was more cleanly shaven back then. He had a straight-laced look about him, like how good ol’ boys were supposed to be, back in the fifties or earlier. He was always pleasant though, usually with a chipper tone and something bold but kind to offer as a statement of encouragement.

The man had a fuzzy beard now, with scruff that looked completely unkempt without grooming. The only thing that seemed to have been cut was his hair, having been buzzed off at some point. His clothes were worse for wear, the blue hue fading from the once vibrant color, and the usually pressed pristine appearance being wrinkled and appearing slept in. He could have been a bum for all she could tell, with his current condition.

“I feel lost,” he said, a touch feebly.

 

Ash was unable to treat the man medically. With nothing at her disposal in regards to medicine, she could only offer him counseling. It did not last long though, as her good friend had stepped in to take charge of that.

While Nyaga was listening to the man talk, Ash was laying down to try and get some sleep. All they could do was stare at the ceiling high above though. This was a strange new place, with new smells, with new people, and new terrors. There were men after them, men who could swarm their entire facility. They could no doubt do the same with this unarmored building. There was no reinforcement to keep them out, so what was the use of this particular place? Of course, it was shelter, so that was a blessing, but if they were traced, then that same army could easily infiltrate this building and kill them all.

Their mind went back to the respawn room, where they had been confronted by the BLU Soldier. They had seen Sofia for the first time. They tried to remember her face and its expression. They tried to etch the lines of her emotions into their minds. If only for a time that they remembered those details, they might help her to live on through a memory of sacrifice.

Tears welled up in their eyes and their throat hurt. They sighed, trying to breathe evenly as they swallowed the lump. Now was not the time for them to cry. It was hard enough being taken seriously in general, but now they had teammates who were really hurting and would need them to be emotionally stable to be supportive.

 

The next morning, everything was quickly packed back up. The ground outside was slick from the previous night’s rain though. The gray clouds overhead threatened another storm, so they were quick to move in hopes of missing it. They would have to pack everybody inside of the trucks though, which was easier given that they had more trucks than before.

Ash climbed into an ambulance vehicle, painted over with some sort of white paint that was not intended for vehicles. They settled in a seat in the back, watching over the sleeping Spy. Two Medics climbed into the front seats and they urged Beatrice into the back as well.

Neither of them spoke. The silence lingered, aside from the quiet small talk in German from the front of the vehicle. In the back, neither of the two spoke, as if saying anything to themselves might be assumed to be speaking to the other.

Ash felt that in spite of everything, anything they said might incite violence. Beatrice was known to be violent and impersonal. She craved attention for her madness and whatever medical skills she had. Taunts, threats and words of depravity had been exchanged between them on the battlefield too many times for them to just put that all aside and work together in this situation.

The ambulance hit a pothole and some things started falling. Ash leaped to their feet to grab things, preventing them from falling on the Spy, especially on his head. To their surprise, Beatrice had grabbed a med pack that was about to fall on his legs. She even breathed a sigh of relief.

Ash carefully straightened everything, not having enough hands to deal with it all at the same time. They needed a minute to actually fasten everything together. For now, they would have to hope they did not hit any potholes while their hands were busy.

“Tie everything down with those clip ties on the shelf,” Beatrice pointed.

Ash felt her stomach curl and her hackles rise. Their hand had been about to grab those very clip ties, but hearing the woman giving her orders just demeaned them to a new level. The rage of battle came right up their throat and boiled as they turned to the BLU Medic.

“Beatrice, I swear to God, if you say one more damn-” they stopped, bewildered as they stared into the face of an equally bewildered Medic.

They made a quick review of what had just happened. Beatrice’s tone had not been commanding. Rather, it was a gentle suggestion, which coming from any other person would have made them nod rather than scorn the person. They were unused to that voice, having only heard the madness that came from Beatrice’s voice, a mix of insanity and anger.

They cleared their throat and quickly turned back to what they were doing. They grabbed the clips and started fastening things to the shelves, especially the IV bag holder. The last thing they needed was an incident that both concussed the Spy and tore apart the tubes feeding these fluids to him.

When the two of them sat back down, everything went back to silence. It was once again eerie, sitting in such a silence that defended their ears from the perceived violence of the other’s voice. They rocked with the ambulance, but neither of them spoke, even when they accidentally bumped into the other.

 

It was an hour or so before something happened. Almost like a miracle, the Spy’s eyes started to open. Ash gasped and dropped to their knees, getting closer to the Spy, in hopes of checking his vitals and hearing anything he wanted to say while he was awake.

They watched carefully as he blinked. He was probably trying to clear his vision, staring up at medical equipment, Ash and the ceiling of the ambulance. They offered him a smile, their hand taking out a flashlight to prepare for checking his eyes. It would be important to get him not only conscious but fully functional as well. They needed to make sure his vitals were at safe levels and that he would make a full recovery, before letting him up, like he would no doubt want. It definitely had to come before anybody started asking him big questions.

“Spy? Can you hear me?” they asked softly.

He made a sound in his throat, slowly blinking. He looked so tired, like he might pass out again. They snapped their fingers by his ear, in hopes of getting a response. The way he moved his head away told them he could hear, but he seemed to have a headache that was triggered by sound.

“Here, you’ll need this,” Beatrice stood and grabbed something.

Ash turned their head to see what she was doing. They were just in time for the pothole that caused Beatrice to lose her balance. Her feet came out from under her and she stumbled to grapple for balance. In her attempt to stay upright, she dropped the box she was holding and it slammed into Ash’s head. The momentum and force caused Ash to fall hard, their skull smashing into the Spy’s face.

They pulled away and looked at the Spy’s face with horror. The man’s eyes closed and his head sagged to the side. Blood came pouring from his nose though, as it seemed that he had taken a major hit. Ash hissed as the pain set into the side of their head. They put a hand to the stricken side of their head and turned a glare to Beatrice.

“You idiot! Look what you’ve done! Now he’s bleeding _and_ unconscious again!” they roared, unable to contain the fury that boiled up to the surface.

Beatrice took a step back, gaping at them with wide eyes. They seemed terrified, or at least horrified at the amount of blood coming from the Spy’s nose. The sheer volume of blood brought Ash’s attention back to the unconscious man, hurrying to try and take care of the bleeding.

Before they realized what was happening, the Medic who had been sitting in the passenger seat in the front came to the back. He motioned to Beatrice and she headed to the front to take the seat. The man grabbed Ash’s arm and pulled them away from their work.

“Let go of me! I have work to do!” they exclaimed.

“Sit down,” the man pointed to the bench on the side of the ambulance, where they had sat before, “I’ll take care of this.”

Ash held a hand cupped to the side of their head as they watched the man work. He took care to take care of the patient, before returning his attention to Ash. He dug through some things on the shelves and brought an ice pack out for Ash’s head. With a reluctant sigh, they accepted the ice pack and placed it against their head. They might as well accept the mistake they made in trusting Beatrice so close to them, even if it was an accident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just gonna leave a little discourse between the enemy Medics here.  
> Also, Nyaga is awesome friend, and very quiet person.
> 
> Edit: I am making my notes for Mann Co Productions available: http://mcglothlin-clason.wixsite.com/manncoproductions


	34. Destruction at the RED Base

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna finds her workplace destroyed and her coworkers gone.  
> Ash needs a place to sleep.  
> Adaliz needs cheering up.

Nonna was relieved that she was finally pulling up to the base where she worked. It was like coming home after a long and arduous business trip, which took the whole supply of energy out of the body. After a plane ride and a long process of picking up a new car, she found herself yearning for a sense of home. What she found was a wreck.

Everything had been trashed, even beyond what they would have done in their usual fights. The wreckage led all the way into the RED base. The damage even went as far as the respawn room. When she got there though, there was nothing left but burn marks and carnage.

The lockers had been emptied, showing that her teammates had grabbed their things on their way out. Wherever they had gone was beyond her, but she doubted they were there. The trucks being gone had to be evidence enough that they had left.

Hers was the only locker with materials left in it. They were mostly destroyed from the fire fight. The locker itself looked like it got hit by a rocket. Her fingers touched the burnt metal, trying to remember its near pristine condition. It had been one of the newly installed lockers, a detail her coworkers had been thankful for, considering their previous arrangement had them working with wooden crates and such, but had overlooked as a significant permanent installment to this facility.

She glanced around the respawn room, feeling suddenly disoriented. None of _this_ was supposed to happen. These lockers were supposed to be the first non-secret to their permanent installment to this facility. No matter, as lockers could be replaced.

She made her way into the base, moving slowly so as to take in all of the details that she could. She did not want to overlook a clue that could lead her to her team. No less, the place felt so creepy and she was too terrified to risk being startled. She imagined that the RED Spy was here, waiting for her, hoping she had respawned. Why he would be left behind was beyond her, but she was far from taking chances.

She went first to the Demoman’s workshop. A smaller chair had been installed for Lucy, placing her on the opposite side of where Cletis usually worked. There was nobody there, but in her mind’s eye, she could see them there, chatting with their weird accents and bottles lying around. They were an odd pair, given their toxic alcoholism and party behavior.

She moved on, glancing around for any signs. There was such an eerie silence that she was afraid to disturb it. In fact, it was almost terrifying to the point of wanting to disappear from this place. She did not want to exist in it, not alone, without anybody else to make the sounds.

Her boot made a click against the floor. She paused, reaching down to her shoe to find part of her heel missing. With an irritated sigh, she turned around to find that it had come off on the floor, stuck to a wad of gum.

She reached down, wincing as she removed the heel cushion from the gum, “Gross. Who would discard this on the floor?” An eerie sensation crept up the back of her neck, the kind that told her that somebody was watching her.

Startled, she quickly turned. Finding nobody around, she took a deep breath, quickly replacing the cushion on her heel. Not wanting to dawdle, she hurried on with worried glances around the building.

She came to the Engineer’s workshop to find it also empty. A couple of beer bottles stood empty upon Alan’s desk. Some pieces of scrap metal lay on Shelly’s desk. An old picture colored in crayon was taped to the edge, dangling just by the seat of the chair.

A snap startled her and she looked under her foot to see an assortment of crayons. There were sheets of white scattered across the floor. Beneath some of them, she made out some color. Curiosity made her reach down to pick up the colored pictures, even though she knew who had drawn them.

Yukina had mostly drawn mercenaries, especially herself with Shelly or Ash. There was one that startled Nonna though. She was not sure why, but it looked like Yuki had drawn Nonna herself, holding a knife to what appeared to be the other RED Spy, Cletis.

She shook herself, “No no. Yukina wouldn’t draw something like that!” She tossed the paper, letting it flutter to the floor idly.

She set the other pictures on Shelly’s desk, figuring the woman would want them later. Maybe they were in town, now that Nonna thought about it, Mann Co had been a bit sparse on supplies and they were probably aching to get their hands on something to use. Alan was probably not man enough to handle keeping them within the boundaries of base.

With a frustrated sigh, she hurried to the stairs. The upstairs area was just as quiet, silent and eerie. It felt abandoned in some strange way. What was worse was that the corridor where the Medic slept was covered in filth.

She could see the other corridors being left filthy and gross, but not where Dr. Ash was living. As difficult as Shelly was to live across from, the doctor would keep everything spotless. Even the infirmary was kept from being filthy, through hours upon hours, even days if the doctor was feeling out of their mind, of hard scrubbing and bleach. The infirmary here had gone from smelling of blood and death to the scent of bleach and cleaners in the past weeks that she knew of.

“The infirmary,” she breathed.

That would have to wait though, as she rushed to her room. It was not quite untouched as one would think it, but it held reason. She could see the bunched up blankets that were unfitted to the mattress, a mess that told of Adaliz spending hours in here worrying about her. She even left one of her ball caps behind, and it was already dusty.

Terror struck her as everything piled together. She did not want to believe that something had already happened to them though. Adaliz probably stopped coming in here and so she forgot about her hat. She probably did not want to think about Nonna being gone so much. For all the tough attitude, the girl was really soft and needed a kind hand and loving heart to be around for her.

Nonna grabbed some things from the closet, a jacket, some undergarments, a few sets of pants and shirts as well as a few other things she might need. She glanced at the keys to her old car and sighed, “If only I could drive both right now.” She grabbed the keys anyways, deciding to grab anything she left in there before abandoning it to whatever fate would have it. She would probably be back for it anyways.

She rushed down the stairs again, running straight to the infirmary. This place held a whole different story. Everything was thrown around, shards of glass were everywhere, and everything was broken into. Even the bolted down table was torn off of the floor and thrown across the room. It was a massive shambles.

“Who could have done this?” she asked herself breathily.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She had to remain calm. She had to remember that she was still readjusting to the light and sounds. She might well just think everything was a mess and overly dusty, because she was not remembering it right.

“Just…it’s just from the torture,” she whispered to herself in assurance.

She grabbed her keys out of her pocket and rushed out to her car. She was stopped halfway through the base when she came across another piece of gum. She winced, though felt a bit more fear. Nobody on the team actively chewed gum, let alone left it lying around after they were done with it.

She looked up to see that another piece of gum was on the wall. There were several pieces, holding up a piece of paper. She stepped towards it, trying to focus on the French words. Her mind did not want to give her any clue as to the gist of the letter, let alone think in French. She focused for a long time before she started to actually read the thing.

“Nonna, if you find this, I love you. Come find us,” she read aloud.

She took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. She was so relieved that they were not dead.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash waited until they stopped to finally look out. The sun was piercing through gray clouds as they clambered out and pulled the patient from the back. They blinked the light away as they followed the other man’s lead.

Ash had learned that his name was Alhwin and the other Medic they were with was Maxwell. Alhwin was much more pleasant, once they got to know him. He was the quiet type, keeping to himself and keeping up his emotional walls.

They did not learn much about Maxwell. He had spent his time driving or otherwise entertaining whatever asinine things Beatrice had been yammering about in German. Perhaps they would talk to him later, since they might end up working together anyways.

“I already know where we can set him up,” Alhwin was telling them, “There’s a decent spot in the back. We can curtain it off for his case.”

Ash nodded, “Okay. Sounds like a good plan.”

Alhwin nodded as well, leading them into a big base, whose double doors were left wide open. Ash could hear noise and bustle all around. It was like life existed in every crevice of the building, and Ash was not sure whether to be scared or relieved by that.

“This way,” Alhwin pointed, carefully shifting the stretcher as they headed down a ramp that covered what used to be stairs.

“What’s this?” Ash asked, careful not to let the stretcher move too fast.

“We had to set up an infirmary downstairs,” he explained, “Well, it’s only part of the infirmary. The upstairs is not very useful for this case.”

“You have an upstairs _and_ a downstairs for the infirmary?” Ash asked, in awe at the idea.

“Yea well, we had to build extra space somewhere,” Alhwin said, apparently missing their enthusiasm, “We use the downstairs for long term patients. Upstairs is for checkups and other shorter visits. It’s better if we keep that separate from the overnight patients.”

Ash nodded in agreement, “No need to stress healing patients with the constant in and out of visitors.”

“I just thought of the noise,” Alhwin gave them a blank look.

“Oh…well…I suppose keeping them from noise is a good idea,” they shrugged.

“I meant their noise,” he paused, bracing the stretcher against his hip as he opened the doors, “Come on. There’s a spot in the back corner.”

Ash looked around, feeling a little awed and fearful at the same time. The basement area, an area that in the bases they had seen was used for storage of large materials, had been converted into a patient resting area. There were beds lining both walls, with curtains to separate them. Some fans were placed around each bed for cooling down patients that were too hot, and several heaters were placed along the hall. None of them were activated though.

Ash was a bit fearful about this area, because there were already six other patients. Two of them were covered in casts, one of them had the curtains drawn around him, but was audibly coughing, two were groaning and moaning where they lay and the sixth one was sleeping soundly. All of them were sick or injured, and while that was normal in a hospital, that was not promising for mercenaries. This could be a big problem, if they were going to be working with Miss Pauling and all of these other mercenaries.

What was more was that Ash was not sure where they had gotten these illnesses and injuries. At Mann Co, it was easy to tell, there was a team of RED and a team of BLU. Here, each man wore either color, with some people mismatching different pieces of their uniform with different colors, as if they had traded those pieces with a mercenary of the same class on the other team. It would have been simple to say that it was those men in black, that monstrous horde of men looking to slaughter them. That was too simple of an answer though, and Ash was not looking forward to finding out what the real answer was. Nevertheless, they would have to know about it sooner or later.

“Do you think you’ll be fine taking care of him?” they asked, “I kind of need to check on some teammates.”

“Oh?” he gave her a questioning look, “I could use a hand with this.”

“Don’t worry,” two other sets of footsteps came in. Ash turned to see Maxwell and Beatrice entering. They looked like they had been in the middle of a conversation when they came down here. “We’ll help him with this. Go take care of your teammates,” Maxwell gestured in a dismissive manner.

Ash hesitated, not liking the idea of leaving Beatrice with the Spy. She would not be alone with him though. There was at least that. They could settle for knowing that the two men would be there to handle the Spy. Besides, he just needed things set up, then they could leave him.

“Alright,” Ash nodded to each of them, “If anything happens with him, call me.”

They headed back up the ramp and looked around the base. There were too many people buzzing around now. It was hard to just find one person that they knew. Surprisingly, the first person that they found was Nyaga, standing starkly amidst the larger heavier men of her class.

Lean, tall and dark, Nyaga was a far cry from the majority of Heaveys. Her stature made her seem smaller and weaker by visual comparison, which seemed to trouble some of the other mercenaries who were talking with her. They did not seem to see how disconnected from it all that the woman was. She just had this distant look about her, with her arms folded over her chest and her body language rejecting their claims that she was much too small to be a Heavy.

That was not to say that she was short though. By contrast, as Ash approached, they were dwarfed by everybody in that group, including Nyaga. the woman seemed to stand almost a head taller than most of those men.

Ash cleared their throat, “Nyaga?” The woman’s gaze immediately turned to them. She gave them a small smile, a small twitch of the lips, as she gave the doctor her full attention. “Might I have a moment of your time?”

The woman said nothing, weaving her way out of the small crowd to join the doctor. She bent down a little as Ash pulled out a flashlight. The woman was completely unaffected when they started checking her eyes and ears.

“I just want to give everybody a quick check up,” they explained, “After what we’ve been through, it would be easy for adrenaline and shock to mask any side effects of sickness or other problems going on.”

Nyaga took their hands as they pulled out a popsicle stick to put on her tongue. They met her eyes, big browns that barely showed flecks of unnatural gold color. Those were new, and while they complimented the dark browns of her irises, caused alarm.

“Doctor, you are stressed,” the woman held Ash’s hands firmly, “You are dealing by being _doctor_. You need to rest.”

“I need to do my duties and make sure the team is in good condition, first,” Ash insisted.

Nyaga shook her head in refusal, “No you don’t. We are fine. If anything is wrong, we will come to you. There are other Medics as well. We will get help, but you need to rest.”

“I know you’re trying to do that wise quite person thing…but while it works for you, it really doesn’t work for me,” Ash pressed, wriggling their fingers.

Nyaga tightened her hold on their hands, “Everything is stress. You are tired. I can see it in your face. You need to slow down and take a break.”

Ash sighed, “Alright alright. I’ll try to…rest…or something.”

“Don’t try,” Nyaga said sternly, “Just do it. I’ll come by to check on you. You had better have your eyes closed.”

“Hmmph,” Ash closed their eyes.

“And your heart rate down,” Nyaga growled.

“Aww nuts,” Ash joked, opening their eyes so they could make their way through the base. They had so far yet to be introduced to any of the other mercenaries, outside of the Medic class. They had not even been given any information about the base’s layout, or where they were supposed to be staying. “I’m sure nobody will mind if I just find a place to relax though,” they nodded.

 

They were roused very suddenly by a loud voice. They leaped to their feet and looked around in shock. They ended up looking eye to eye with the Medic named Maxwell. There were a few moments of silence, as the tired looking man stood there, staring back at her for a dull moment of confusion. His eyes blinked, but he otherwise made no movements.

“Uhh…” they paused, staring at him with uncertainty. A sensation of alarm crept up their spine and they became regrettably aware that they did not have a weapon at their immediate disposal.

“This is my room,” he said, blinking tiredly.

“Oh,” was all they could respond with, but they felt relieved by his reluctant explanation.

With a silent nod, they dismissed themselves from the room, slipping out the door. They looked around, searching for some other place to be. There had to be a room _somewhere_ that was unoccupied. Otherwise, they would have to find a room that somebody was willing to lend them.

“Hey doc!” a familiar voice called them. They turned to see Adaliz waving at them. She was walking with four other Scouts, who were busily talking amongst themselves. “Hey! Hey doc!” she called.

They gave her a small wave, before continuing on. Being the runner that she was, Adaliz came bolting after them. She stopped with a slide as she came next to Ash.

“Whacha doing?” Adaliz asked.

“Looking for someplace to lay down,” Ash said, refraining her voice from any tired moaning. After all of what must have been five minutes of having their eyes closed, they suddenly felt very tired.

“You’re looking for a bed to sleep on?” Adaliz’s steps hesitated, “I’ll go ask Drake. He’ll probably know of a room.” She turned and darted back towards the other Scouts.

Ash halted their steps, waiting for Adaliz. They might as well take assistance when it was offered. It was more likely that the resident Scouts knew these hallways better anyways. However, they were not expecting to see a cripple and blind young man walking their way. They decided to make things easier for him and meet him halfway. Okay, so it was more than halfway, but he probably could not tell the difference.

“Okay, so what you do is go straight down the other hallway. Take a right by the burn marks left by a Pyro. Then when you smell febreeze, that’s where you’ll find the other rooms,” he explained.

“You know where the burn marks are?” they asked, curiously. Maybe he was not as blind as he appeared.

“I can smell them,” he stated.

“I’ll walk you there!” Adaliz took their arm, “Thanks guys. I’ll catch up to you!”

 

*********************************************************************

 

The night settled in and Yukina was nowhere closer to figuring anything out. Was she not smart enough to get it? Maybe she was missing a piece to this puzzle. Whatever it was, it was driving her crazy.

She paced in a small room used mostly for storage, walking between the crates of ammunition. She did not want to be disturbed, as she had been several times before. First was when Ash came into the bedroom they would be sharing, second was when she was pacing a recreational room that some men came in to use, and the third time was when she was outside, and she ended up around a bunch of Spies and a few other guys who were smoking.

“Oh hey! There you are!” she heard Adaliz’s voice.

She really did not want to hear Adaliz’s voice right now, she wanted some quiet. She kept pacing, hoping that her friend might get the picture. She just did not want to be bothered while she was thinking.

“You _are_ Yukina, right?” Adaliz asked hesitantly.

Yukina sighed and paused in midstep. She nodded to the Scout, hoping to put her mind at ease. Still, that did not change the fact that she wanted to be left alone with all of these clues.

“So, I was thinking,” Adaliz hopped up to seat herself on a barrel, “Since Nonna’s been gone, we haven’t been…you know…doing certain things.”

Yukina shook her head. She did not know what things she meant, but she was sure it was irrelevant. In their current predicament, they were not going to do a lot of things that they normally would. In fact, there were a lot of things that Yukina had stopped doing. Lately, she had stopped to think a bit more, trying to puzzle things out like a game of chess. It was a shame that she was not good at chess though.

“I know everybody else is tired of hearing me talk about Nonna,” Adaliz admitted, “But I can’t help but _feel_ like she’s out there. Maybe she’s okay. Maybe we misjudged what’s going on with her.”

Yukina paused at those words. Nonna had been gone between a week and two weeks, before all of this happened. She could have ran into some sort of trouble that was completely unrelated to the incident altogether. In fact, it was much more likely to be the case. Unless, perhaps there was somebody behind all of this who had taken Nonna in for questioning before sending men to kill the rest. Perhaps their Spy had given away team secrets. If that was true, they needed to know about it.

“Don’t you think it’s possible that she could still be alive?” Adaliz pleaded.

Yukina looked at her and saw the desperation. She felt that Nonna could be alive too, but they did not need false hope. They needed confirmation one way or another. All the same, she could not help but feel like Adaliz just needed cheering up, too tired of distractions.

“I know you’re scared,” she told her friend, placing a hand on her shoulder, “We just have to be strong for now. If Nonna’s alive-” She winced as she realized that she was within the mask and did not have her walkie talkie on her. Nobody had even thought to grab it in the panic.

“Yuki, I can’t hear you,” Adaliz frowned.

“I know I know,” Yukina sighed. Adaliz needed to find somebody else to cheer her up, if she wanted to talk.


	35. Quickly Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is quickly changing, maybe for the better. Nonna is back and Adaliz could not be happier.

Yukina was thinking and watching Adaliz sleep, when a voice came over the earpiece, “Is anybody there? Hello? Can you hear me?” There was a frustrated sigh. “I wish somebody would answer.”

Yukina was stunned to silence. It was like an angel had called out to them to smack them in the faces with the truth. Nonna was in fact not dead. She was alive and she was somewhere within range of the radio signal.

She rose from her seat and moved away from the area. She did not want to disturb anybody sleeping. They had to share rooms, so there was only hallways she could go to.

“Nonna? Are you still there?” she asked, when she was clear of others.

“Y-Yukina?!” Nonna gasped and laughed with delight, “I was so worried!”

“We…we thought you were dead,” Yukina replied.

She felt a little breathless. Nonna must have been a bit breathless too, because she did not say anything for a long time. She just sort of sat there on the line, probably trying to think. Maybe she was amazed that she had found them.

“Where were you?” Yukina asked, hoping she could straighten out some things before Nonna’s arrival, “We were so worried! And you were gone for so long. It was like you just disappeared off the face of the Earth! Shelly couldn’t even find where you’d gone on the monitors. She was looking for days. Alan either. Poor souls, they got so tired searching. I took care of them though.”

“Yukina, where are you now?” she asked, ignoring her questions.

“Erm…uh…a secret place I guess?” Yukina glanced around the room, as if it would help her identify the place.

“What can you tell me about it?” Nonna asked.

“I’m not sure the radio line is safe to talk though,” Yukina hesitated.

“Yukina, I need to know where you are!” Nonna pressed.

What if somebody was listening? Anybody could tap into a radio frequency, after all. She knew that much from listening to Shelly talk about it for hours. And what if somebody was there with Nonna listening? What if they had her hostage too? They probably would have been calling about a hostage situation, and Nonna would otherwise be giving hints that she was not okay. She certainly would not be bringing them to their base.

“Yuki?” Nonna pressed, frustrated with the silence.

“Give me a few minutes,” Yukina spoke softly as she made her way down the hall in search of Shelly.

“Yukina, I need to know now,” Nonna groaned, “I’ve been on the road for hours now.”

“Hey, what are you doing still up?” a sleepy Adaliz opened the bedroom door.

Yukina turned to see Adaliz rubbing her eye. She was dressed down to a big shirt borrowed from one of the larger men, and shorts that doubled like boxers under her usual attire. She looked so sleepy and adorable that Yukina almost sent her right back to bed.

“Yuki? Are you listening to me?” Nonna pleaded.

Yukina turned her head as she spoke into the earpiece, “Give me a minute, Nonna. I need to speak with-”

“Hey! You okay?” Adaliz walked towards her.

Yukina pointed towards her ear, “I am trying to talk to-”

“Yuki, please just tell me where you are,” the groan this time was even more dramatic, “I am so tired. I am so done with driving. You don’t even know.”

“I can’t hear you, Yuki,” Adaliz said, staring at her curiously.

Yukina huffed a sigh, realizing that she was not going to get many words out. They just kept talking over her, again and again. There was no point in talking to them if they were going to be like this.

“Are you still there?” Nonna asked.

“I know everything’s been…hectic,” Adaliz scratched her arm, “You’ve been taking all of this really well. And…well…you have a right to have a cry if you need to, once in a while. Nobody’s going to shame you.”

Yukina paused, trying to find a solution. There was no way she was taking her mask off though. What if somebody had a walkie talkie though? The thought caused her to spring into action, running down to the Engineers’ workshop. Adaliz followed close behind, easily faster than the Pyro when she was wide awake.

The run had Adaliz wide eyed and bushy tailed by the time they got to their destination. To Yukina’s dismay, the door was locked up. Why they would lock it up was beyond her, unless they were afraid of enemy Spies getting in. Who would be the enemy Spy though, if all of the RED and BLU mercenaries were friends now? There was no need for locks here.

“What are we looking for?” Adaliz asked, a little more excitedly.

“Walkie talkie,” Yukina stated slowly, hoping Adaliz might catch the muffled syllables.

“A walkie talkie?” Adaliz copied back to her.

She raised a thumb and tapped the door, hoping she would get the picture. On the ear piece, Nonna sounded like she was pacing impatiently. She was very irritated, and was probably huffing on a cigarette.

“I don’t think we’ll be getting in there,” Adaliz said, shaking her head, “But I know where there’s a walkie talkie we can borrow!” Adaliz grinned broadly, showing her teeth.

“Let’s go find it!” Yukina said, excitedly.

“Yes, while you go on your hunt for the walkie talkie, I’ll be here… _not_ getting any needed rest,” Nonna said, in an irritable tone.

Yukina ignored the voice on the earpiece for now. She would be able to reveal what was going on to Adaliz once the walkie talkie was found. The pieces clicked together in her mind, and she grew too excited at the realization that she would be able to make Adaliz happy again by revealing that Nonna was alive.

“And while you’re at it, why don’t you set up a radio?” Nonna went on, sarcastically anyways.

“Follow me, this way,” Adaliz took down a hallway and Yukina followed as fast as she could. At least the Scout tried to keep her pace slower, so that Yuki could keep up better.

“Shh,” she put a finger to her lips, tiptoeing towards a door that was labeled _monitors_.

“What is this?” Yuki whispered, as she crept closer.

Adaliz opened the door carefully. She moved it slowly as it creaked, not wanting to disturb anybody. Inside, they could hear the soft snores of a tired man who was supposed to be working on surveillance. His head had fallen forward, his helmet tipping down over his face. His hands were folded on his slightly rounded belly.

Adaliz held a hand to her for her to wait. She crept inside, moving very slowly. When her hand left the door, Yukina grabbed it, not wanting it to slam shut and wake the poor tired man. She watched as Adaliz carefully took the yellow walkie talkie off of the desk, where monitors of cameras splayed all around the base were seated. She turned around and crept back out, before Yukina softly shut the door.

They darted off together, hurrying to get away from the monitor room. They did not want to be spotted stealing, even if they did intend to give it back. It felt like fun though, sneaking around like naughty little children. It reminded Yukina of when she was little, sneaking around a creaky old house late at night with her brother to steal sweets for their bentos that their mother would not let them have.

They stopped when they were a fair distance from the monitor room. Adaliz turned on the radio and turned to Yukina. “Which frequency channel are you on?” she asked.

Yukina took the walkie talkie from her and started tuning it, searching for the channel her earpiece was set to. It was not something she had jotted down or anything, so she did not remember the setting. She spoke softly into the earpiece as she searched, to see if her voice would come out of the walkie talkie.

“Testing…testing…let’s see…testing…testing…nope still not it,” then she heard her voice and handed it to Adaliz.

“Okay, good! Now what did you want to tell me?” Adaliz asked.

Without missing a beat, Nonna spoke up, though she had not heard Adaliz speak, “What the hell are you testing? What is going on? I’m waiting!”

Adaliz looked at the walkie talkie, then to Yukina. She was so speechless. She had to say something though. There had to be some sort of connection between them to let Nonna know what was going on here. Yukina figured she had better not speak and just let Adaliz do the talking, so she gestured to the walkie talkie.

Adaliz cleared her throat and pressed the speak button, “N-Nonna?!”

There were some choked breaths. Yukina listened, remaining absolutely silent. She did not want to ruin this moment for either of them. The realization hit Adaliz’s eyes, followed immediately by tears. She flung her arms around Yukina as she started crying again. At least this time the crying was for relief.

“Adaliz,” Nonna’s sigh sounded like a breath of relief, “You’re okay.”

 

After a lot of arguing and a lot of gesturing, Yukina finally convinced the Scout that they could not trust the radio frequency with information. They had to go meet Nonna and bring her back themselves. Everybody else was exhausted and dead asleep right now, so they might as well just go on without them.

Yukina was quick to find the keys to a truck, and they were soon driving from the base to meet Nonna at a gas station. Adaliz was driving, of course. There was no way Yukina could drive. She just sat in the passenger seat, watching the world zoom past them.

Meanwhile, the walkie talkie sat in Adaliz’s hand, as she gabbed fervently with Nonna about how much she missed her and how worried she was. The sentiment seemed to be the same for Nonna, only the Spy was calmer. She seemed to just know that they were all okay, without knowing where they were.

Yukina would not interrupt them either. They both needed this time together. More importantly, Adaliz needed to stay awake, and Yukina was not the best for conversation, especially not as sleepiness started to take a hold on her.

She was yawning sleepily when they arrived at the gas station. It was quiet and the sun was rising. They had driven for more than an hour already. The others back at the base were probably worried about them. Yukina started to worry that they should have given the walkie talkie back before they left.

“I think I see it,” Adaliz said, as the truck bumped over the old dirt road.

“Yea, we’re here,” Yukina finally said, raising her head to see the old gas station ahead of them.

“About time!” Nonna spoke loudly over the frequency.

“Man…I am not going to have a good…day today,” Adaliz yawned loudly.

“You just found I was alive,” Nonna argued, “I would think you would be happy about that.”

“We’re happy,” Yukina groaned. She wished she could rub her eyes like Adaliz was doing. “We’re just really tired right now.”

“Hurry up already! Some creep in the station’s been staring at me. Either he’s suspicious of me talking to myself, or he’s thinking over coming over. I neither want to deal with this man myself nor the police,” Nonna whined.

“We’re right here,” Adaliz pulled to a stop, rubbing her eye all the while.

“Oh! I see you!” Nonna exclaimed.

“Yep, we’re here,” Yukina replied, as she opened the door.

“Mmph,” Adaliz moaned as they climbed out to meet Nonna by her vehicle.

Nonna rushed over to greet Adaliz, scooping her up into a hug. “Oh my, I missed you!” she started kissing her face, speaking in a torrent of French.

Adaliz was replying with a lot of “oui oui” and other stuff as Nonna showered her in kisses. Yukina was too tired to worry about it all. She turned and headed back to the truck, climbing in to lay down. She wanted to sleep off a growing headache that was coming out of the lack of sleep.

She was dozing with her head on the center console when Adaliz opened the driver side door. The loud dinging of the door woke her and she groaned. She looked up at Adaliz as the Scout climbed into the seat. She put her walkie talkie into the center console as Yukina sat up.

“Let’s get going,” Adaliz said, pausing to yawn, “I doubt everybody’s gonna be happy that we ditched with a truck and a walkie without telling anyone.”

“Yea,” Yukina shifted to lean against the door for sleep, “I think Ash is going to be mad about that.”

“Nah, Medic’s cool,” Adaliz said dismissively, “I’m afraid to end up on the wrong end of Shelly’s wrench.” She shuddered and cringed. “She’s always looking out for you and stuff.”

“Of course,” Yukina yawned.

“Hey, you gotta stay awake,” she reached over and shook Yukina’s shouder.

“What? Why?” she moaned.

Adaliz shook her head, “You gotta keep me awake. I’m tired too! We gotta get back in one piece though.”

“Okay,” Yukina groaned, but she sat up to try and stay awake.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

“Adaliz?” the walkie talkie came to life. By now, Yukina had fallen asleep. She could hear the raspy snoring that would have annoyed her if it were not muffled by the mask.

“Yea?” she picked the walkie talkie back up.

“Can we talk on another channel?” Nonna asked.

She looked over at the sleeping Pyro. She did not seem to be too bothered, but the noise _was_ directly in her ear. They could only talk so long without waking her.

She clicked the button again, “Yea. I’ll go down two channels.” She adjusted the walkie talkie’s channel then turned the volume down a bit. She still did not want to wake the sleeping Pyro. “You there?”

There was a brief silence. Then there was some static, before Nonna’s voice came on, “Hello?”

“Yea, I’m here,” Adaliz said quietly. She paused to shift the vehicle as they came to a rather bumpy area.

“Oh good,” Nonna’s voice was soft as she spoke, “I was worried we might have misunderstood each other. I would not want to waste the next few minutes searching for your channel.”

“I’m not that dumb,” Adaliz insisted, a bit irritated.

“I’m sorry,” Nonna said simply, “I wanted to talk to you though…about…things…and all.”

Adaliz switched to her native tongue, “Where were you, Nonna?”

There was a long silence. It grated on her nerves as she listened for a response. The least she could do was try to give some half assed excuse. Adaliz needed something. She deserved _something_ for her worry.

“I…I can’t say,” Nonna answered in English.

“You can’t say? Or you don’t want to?” Adaliz asked firmly in French. Her lover knew plenty of French, this should be no trouble for her. “I am sure that you’ve had a stressful and harsh few weeks, like we have. But, I deserve a few answers. I have not even begun to wrap my head around what happened to us. Now, you’ve appeared and you don’t want to tell me?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Nonna spoke in a pleading whine, “I cannot tell you.”

“Why? For fear I’ll blab?” Adaliz scoffed, “I am better than that now.”

She blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed and frustrated. Still the majority talker of the team, Adaliz had pulled back a lot of her thoughtless jabbering. She even managed to think before she spoke in most occasions. It had been her fault when she revealed some things like Nonna’s hair color – that was back when Nonna still bothered wearing a balaclava – and their relationship. She never quite lived down revealing their secret relations to the rest of the team, especially as the hair and relationship secrets came out in one go.

“I…I know,” Nonna sounded a bit sad as she spoke.

“You know? Nonna, I’ve been through hell. I’ve been worried sick about you for weeks!” Adaliz pleaded.

“I know,” Nonna sighed, “I just…I can’t talk about it.”

“Nonna,” Adaliz groaned. She set the walkie talkie down so she could focus on the road for a bit. Everything got quiet though, aside from Yukina’s muffled snoring, so she picked up the walkie talkie again. “Look, Nonna…I get that you’re secretive. I get that you have to sneak off and do things sometimes. I get _that_. What I don’t get is you disappearing, us almost dying, and finding you’ve been gone for how long and haven’t even attempted to contact us.”

“It’s not from a lack of trying,” Nonna sounded like she was near tears.

Adaliz’s first instinct was to feel bad. She slumped against the steering wheel, eyes focused on the wide unpaved road ahead of her. As she thought about it, she reminded herself that Nonna was good at this. She was a Spy, after all. She could manipulate whoever she wanted, but Adaliz was not in the right mind to be manipulated right now.

“I’m not in any mood for your crying,” Adaliz said firmly.

The response was silence at first. When Nonna tried to respond, Adaliz could not make out anything through the huff, the sigh and the sob. She glanced at her rear-view mirror and realized that Nonna’s car was no longer following her, it had stopped.

She gasped and parked the truck. She darted from the vehicle, rushing towards the little car. She put her hands to the window, shocked to see Nonna doubled over and weeping. She was hugging herself to tightly, her eyes closed as she wept in the driver’s seat.

“Nonna!” she pulled the door open and threw her arms around her lover.

The woman was trembling. She seemed so terrified and as if she was in so much pain. Adaliz had seen her shed a tear for a ruined boot, but she had never seen her cry like this.

“W-what happened?” Adaliz pleaded with her.

“I…I can’t tell you!” Nonna whimpered, leaning into her.

Adaliz sighed and accepted her fate. Besides, there was no better fate for her than to hold onto her dearest. She kissed Nonna’s head, hoping to make her feel better. In reality, all of this holding was mostly making Adaliz feel better.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Yukina leaned out of the open door, shocked to find that she had been abandoned there. She looked over to see Adaliz hanging out of the car, her torso somehow melding with Nonna’s. She was not sure what was happening, given she could not see well through the windshield, but she figured she did not want to know. What loving consenting adults did together was their own business, she thought.

She pulled the door shut and turned on the truck to start the air conditioner. The moment she reached for the air conditioning though, a loud pop went off in the truck. She moaned, climbing into the driver’s seat to try and start it again. Maybe she did something wrong and it needed to be started properly. Maybe she should have asked Adaliz for help. They had a walkie talkie, so she _could_ just call over the earpiece.

When she tried to start the truck this time, it would not even turn over. It made nothing more than a small click in the steering column when she tried to turn it. Nothing was happening.

What poor luck for her. She looked up at the sky with a moan. The sun was rising and it was getting warm. That doubled up for her, as she was in a full body suit. Sure, she had gotten used to heat, being around flames all of the time, but that was different from having to sit around in the heat soaking in one’s own sweat from the past couple of days. She had not had a proper wash in over a week. She was starting to think she was fated to die in the stink that soaked her suit.

“Yuki!” Adaliz came walking to the door.

She opened the door and pointed to the steering column, “It won’t turn on.”

“I heard a loud noise,” Adaliz noted, climbing up to lean over Yuki as she fiddled with the keys.

“I swear I didn’t do anything!” Yukina put her hands up defensively.

“I shouldn’t have left it like that,” Adaliz sighed, “I should have _properly_ parked it. Probably killed the battery, but that pop had to be something else.”

“Do you think we broke it?” Yukina winced.

“Hard to say,” Adaliz shrugged. She glanced over her shoulder at the other mercenary. A quick glance in one of the mirrors told Yukina that Nonna was emerging from her car to have a smoke.

“We’re supposed to be moving soon,” Yukina parroted what she had overheard from Shelly the day before.

“Right, so we need to get moving,” Adaliz nodded in agreement.

“We’ll have to go back in Nonna’s car,” Adaliz put a hand on her shoulder.

“We can’t leave the truck!” Yukina protested, “We need it!”

“Just leave it,” Adaliz gestured dismissively, “It’s not going anywhere and nobody’s going to be able to deal with it for now. We’re not going to get it anywhere, so let’s get in Nonna’s car. Besides, she has a working AC.”

Yukina felt the blood leave her face as Adaliz left the truck. The AC was not supposed to work. She wondered what would have happened if she had turned on the AC. A terrifying thought crossed her mind and her body felt like it had multiplied in mass.

“Yuki?” the earpiece came to life with Dr. Ash’s voice. She flinched, freezing, too scared to answer as she stared at the dashboard of the broken down truck. “Yukina? Are you on this channel?”

“Try the next one!” Shelly’s frantic voice joined the doctor’s.

Yukina took a breath, “I’m here.”

“Yukina! Where are you?” Ash sounded very angry with her.

“Yuki! Oh thank God you’re okay!” Shelly on the other hand sounded like she was sniffling.

“For the love of- Where are you?!” Ash took over the channel.

“I’m…” Yukina glanced in the mirror to see the Scout talking with the Spy.

They looked so happy together, like everything was back to normal again. That was all she wanted, happiness and normalness. Things could be good again if they tried.

“I’m with Adaliz and…Nonna,” she spoke hesitantly, staring at the mirror.

“Nonna?” Dr. Ash sounded breathless and disbelieving.

“Yea,” Yukina did not tear her eyes from the mirror, staring listlessly, “They’re back together.”

“They’re…Nonna’s alive?!” Ash asked with disbelief.

“Yuki, hon,” Shelly took over the channel, probably having taken a walkie talkie from the doctor, “Where are you at? Please tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” Yukina assured her, “But the truck broke down.”

“Stay put and tell me where you are,” Shelly commanded.

“I’m out in the-” the sound of a hawk brought her attention to the sky above.

It was circling in an opposing pattern to a vulture. Both of them seemed to loom overhead with their eyes on something to eat. That thought scared her, making the blood escape from her face.

“The desert,” she said, “I think.”

“The desert?” Shelly was astounded.

“What do you mean? We _left_ the desert!” she heard Ash’s voice in the distance.

“Yuki, hon, are you with anybody right now?” Shelly sounded a bit scared.

Yukina paused and slipped out of the truck’s seat, “If I go to Nonna’s car, I won’t be alone.”

Shelly sighed, “Hon, you’re having an episode. I’ll bet you’re scared, but don’t stay alone.”

“How do you know I’m having an episode?” Yukina asked.

“Yukina, we’re in the mountains,” she heard the doctor’s voice in Japanese, “There is no desert.”

“There’s not?” she looked around the terrible hot planes with the barren grounds. There were many slopes, even steep ones, but nothing to indicate a regular mountain zone. There were not even any trees.

“Must be the transition,” Dr. Ash said, “We’ve been in the desert for quite a while. It must have set into her mind quite solidly.”

“What do you mean? When we transferred down there, she didn’t have any problem with it,” Shelly argued. This part sounded like they were not supposed to be talking with the walkie talkie on, but Shelly must not have known her thumb was on the button. “So long as she doesn’t get panicked and freak out, she should be fine.”

“Yes, but the brain is fragile,” the doctor said, “Transferring down didn’t have any problems…likely because nothing negative was going on. She’s got a lot on her mind. She’s probably hallucinating that Nonna is there. She might be trying to fill in blanks where there are none. Tell her to keep calm and try to stay with somebody. And don’t touch anything.”

“Alright,” Shelly turned back to the walkie talkie, “Yuki? I want you to stay put hon. Okay? You’re there with Adaliz right? Can you stay near her?”

“Okay,” Yukina agreed.

“Do you have any way she can talk to us?” Shelly asked.

She almost said no, before she grabbed the walkie talkie from the center console. She ran across the spans between the vehicles, with the walkie talkie held out. She excitedly handed it to Adaliz, hoping she could clear things up.

“Here! Take the walkie talkie,” Yukina quickly changed the channel to the setting her earpiece was at.

“Uh…thanks, Yuki,” Adaliz took the walkie talkie, but by her tone she was definitely not pleased that their conversation had been bothered.

“You gave the talkie to her?” Shelly’s voice came over the speaker.

Nonna suddenly jerked. Her eyes closed tight and she almost crushed her cigarette in her gloved hand. Her other arm as wrapped around herself, hugging tightly to her ribs. She looked so distressed.

“Ah, tell Shelly I said hello, would you?” Nonna requested, putting the cigarette to her lips.

“Okay,” Adaliz nodded and pressed the speak button, “Hey Shelly. Nonna says hi.”

“N-Nonna?” Shelly was disbelieving again.

“She’s having a smoke right now,” Adaliz explained, “We’ll be there soon. Sorry we disappeared on you like that. We just kinda rushed off to find Nonna.”

“You…you’re there with Yukina, right?” Shelly asked, hesitantly.

“Yes,” Adaliz patted Yukina’s shoulder, “She’s fine. She’s here with me.”

“Good,” Shelly sighed with relief.

“I told you, I’m fine,” Yukina assured her.

“Yuki said the truck broke down,” Shelly went on, without missing a beat.

“Uh…yea…my bad,” Adaliz rubbed her neck.

Nonna muttered something in what Yukina took to be French, because Adaliz understood it. She gave Nonna an awkward smile as she rubbed her neck. The two of them were silent for a few moments, as if they could not decide how to continue with the conversation.

“Listen um…Nonna has her car. So, we’ll just come there with her,” Adaliz explained.

“The truck’s not running,” Yukina reminded her.

“Yes, I can see that, Yuki,” Adaliz said, between clenched teeth.

Yukina flinched in surprise and took a half step back. Since when was Adaliz so aggressive? She did not understand what was upsetting her.

“Just get your butts back here,” Shelly commanded, “I’m sure I’ll be going out there to fix it. Just get back here.” Yukina felt really bad that this had been put on Shelly’s shoulders because of their carelessness.

Raindrops diverted her attention. She looked up at the sky. The sky was entirely gray with clouds spanning from one horizon to the other.

“Huh,” Adaliz tucked the walkie talkie’s hook into a belt loop, “We should get going.”

“Quickly changing weather,” Nonna noted, as she returned to the driver’s seat in the car.

“Better let me drive,” Adaliz insisted, approaching the door.

Nonna quickly shut the door, “You are a terrible driver, especially in the rain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter took me a while to finish. I made it though!  
> Can't promise the next chapter will be soon. Some ominous stuff coming up I think.


	36. We’re Relieved but Grieving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna is relieved to finally be back with her team, but it seems that they are grieving.

It was a relief to see everybody come together. The others were so relieved to have Nonna back. After some shared hugs, they started a pow wow in the kitchen, where Ash and Lucy started cooking.

It was nice to have this feeling back. It was a feeling of family. It was a kinship that Yukina had been missing for the past couple of weeks. This was a cleansing feeling for her.

“So, I know this probably shouldn’t be the time,” Nonna’s tone shifted, “Y- B- I- I won’t be able to get it off my mind if I don’t say something about it.” She cleared her throat while everybody waited to hear her out. “I brought the new contracts with me,” she went on, “They’re in my car. And if we get them signed and sent in we can figure out whatever this mess is and-”

Shelly raised a hand to silence Nonna, “I’m gonna stop you right there.”

“Contracts for what?” Adaliz asked, seeming to have missed what was inferred. Yukina felt pretty good that she knew what Nonna was talking about.

“Mann Co,” Nonna answered almost dismissively.

Ash came over to the dining table from the stove, “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but after everything that has happened, not a single one of us is going to want to sign a contract with Mann Co ever again.”

“What?” Nonna’s head spun to look at them, “What do you mean? What do you mean you don’t want to sign a contract with Mann Co?” She sounded just a little panicked.

“We’re not having any more of the bullshit, Nonna,” Shelly answered, “We’re fed up with it, and you should be too.”

“I um…” Nonna looked around tat them, “I don’t understand. What is this?”

“It’s time you knew what’s been going on,” Shelly went on. She was only partially distracted with squeezing Yuki’s arm.

“What exactly did I miss?” Nonna asked, warily.

“We all missed a lot, actually,” Ash put in.

“We’ve been had,” John Smith spoke up.

That was a surprise for Yukina. She was not surprised because he could speak, but he often fell quiet in moments of serious discussion. He was a smart man, but he was often seen as a nuisance for the way he talked. Not that anybody actually wanted to say that to his face, but Yukina knew from personal experience that he felt it.

“Our entire careers have been a fumbling sham! And what scape goat to be had for all of this? They probably would try to pin it on Alan, but Alan’s too good not to come clean. Good man came forth and told us all about Mann Co Productions. They can’t fool us anymore. So gimme those contracts, because I want to rip them to shreds! Then I’ll burn them out back. I’ll use them to start up the barbeque for steaks or something. I don’t know. Probably some American barbeque thing. With hot sauce and lots of onions. They will know then that I refuse to ever come back to work for the Mann family. They can shove their contracts so far up their asses. They can take the charcoaled burned remains of ashes that will be those contracts and stuff them up their rectums with a pole!”

Everybody was staring at John. They were not really stunned to silence. This sounded like a usual rant for him. Rather, it seemed kind of respectful, like they were giving him room to be angry about this situation. Yukina smiled at that thought, glad that the Soldier was getting a bit of leg room for his vocal prowess.

“And another thing? I never liked working for Mann Co! Everything is a bloody mess! The only benefits I ever got out of this damn company came from the people that I met! I still would rather be walking around England the way I was than to have had this mess! This mess! I swear! This mess! You can’t stand there and tell me that this mess was unavoidable! That Mann Co couldn’t have told us from the get go what we were _really_ getting into! No! They didn’t!” he went on angrily.

“Preach it!” Lucy came over, suddenly appearing with a bottle of alcohol in hand.

“And you all know how that was like!” John did not miss a beat, “With the fucking moronic display of disregard for our safety _added_ to the complete fuck off with our jobs and identities? I’ve been fucking killing people on television without knowing it! And that’s been on display for the entire damn world!”

“I hear ya,” Lucy nodded before taking another drink.

Yukina looked at her, feeling puzzled. Lucy was known to get wasted at parties, but this was no party. This was not the appropriate place or time to be drinking.

“And that’s supposed to be on…on television?! Can you imagine if our families knew? What if they know! I sure as fuck don’t want my nieces knowing what I do! That would be horrendous! I’ll probably go back to find that they all despise me as some sort of wanted criminal!” John ranted angrily.

“We _are_ criminals,” Adaliz mumbled, “Some of us more than others.”

“If we weren’t so daft, we could have seen the signs, but we didn’t!” John threw his arms into the air with exasperation, “I feel like a fucking idiot! They’ll all see though! Nevertheless, they are going to see the error. They are the idiots for thinking they could fuck us over. They thought they could fuck with us, but we’re better than them.”

“We’re mercenaries!” Lucy cheered, raising her beer into the air.

“That’s right!” John was getting really riled up.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Ash stepped forward, hands raised in front of themselves, “You’re getting real riled up now. John, we’ve heard you out. Now, it’s time to calm down.”

“Lighten up, doc!” Lucy took a long drag from the bottle, “We’re likely gonna die and we might as well make the best of it for now!”

“I am not going to die on this turf!” John said, growing red, “Not on _their_ turf! I’ll kill them on _mine_! They can come to Britain and I’ll slaughter them!”

“Alright,” Ash’s voice remained so calm. Yukina could only smile, as it was the voice Ash used to calm her down too.

“Look, you can rant later,” Shelly spoke up, “The point is that Mann Co has been putting on a show and we-” She cut off as Nonna suddenly turned away.

They stared at the woman’s back, confused and stunned. Nonna had her hands to her face, and her whole body seemed to be shaking. Nobody spoke for a while, watching with confusion as the Spy suddenly lost her vestige of calm. It was the same shaken and broken appearance that Nonna had had when they met her by the car.

Adaliz stepped around her, putting an arm on the taller woman’s arm. She was quiet for a bit, letting Nonna have a moment. She took a calming breath and spoke to her in French.

After a minute, Nonna replied something in French. There was a brief whispered conversation that the rest of them did not know. Even Lucy, who apparently took French in school, could not understand what they were talking about.

In fact, Lucy became the Medic’s next priority. They approached her, taking the bottle from her hands. She simply stared in disbelief, apparently stunned to silence.

“Alright, I think you have had enough. There is a very delicate situation here and you’re getting drunk,” Ash scolded.

“There is a fine line between intervention and being a bitch,” Lucy snatched at the bottle but missed.

Medic looked appalled but managed to keep the beer away. There was an eerie silence that settled over most of the group. Adaliz glanced at the situation, then guided Nonna a few steps away, keeping her from whatever was about to happen.

“You think you’re the boss, but you’re not!” Lucy spat, putting a finger in Ash’s face.

“Having to baby you when you’re drunk has been no delight of mine,” Ash assured her, turning so that the beer was farther from Lucy.

Lucy looked angered by Ash’s words, “Excuse me?! I don’t need to take shit from you!”

“Lucille, you are drunk,” Ash said sternly, “Don’t keep drinking. We have a situation to deal with.”

“Is Nonna okay?” Yukina tried to ask Shelly. At least, she tried to ask softly, but the walkie talkie made things difficult to be quiet.

Adaliz cleared her throat, “Nonna needs a minute. She’s just…she’s gonna go lay down.”

“We really need to clear some things up,” Ash insisted, stepping towards the woman whose back was still turned to them.

“After,” Adaliz insisted, “Nonna’s…fr-”

“Is nobody even going to acknowledge her?!” Lucy shouted at the top of her lungs.

Everybody turned to her. The astounded feeling just sort of teetered off as the drunken woman swayed a bit. She seemed like she might be a little off her rocker from all of the alcohol she must have drank to get so belligerent. Then again, a belligerent Lucy was usually giggly and silly, not angry and screaming. It made Yukina feel frightened.

“You just wanna make everything else more important! And none of you have even – for a single moment – acknowledged that Sofia is gone!” Lucy was screaming at the top of her lungs.

“Lucy,” Ash gave her a stern look.

“No!” Lucy spat back at her, “Nobody’s even going to acknowledge that she’s gone! Just…nothing? Not even a thought in her memory? Just…disregard her existence and move on without her?”

The team grew silent again. There were a lot of guilty looks. Some of them looked at their feet with shame.

Nonna’s sudden intake of breath and turning around caught everybody’s attention, “Sofia? You mean…Sofia is gone?” There were tears in her red eyes and streaks staining her cheeks.

“Yea,” Lucy seemed to calm down at seeing that Nonna’s attention was brought around by this realization.

Nonna put a hand over her eyes, rubbing like there was an itch. She did not start crying again, apparently not too disturbed by this finding, but it did upset her. That much Yukina could tell of.

“Lass, it isn’t that we don’t miss her,” Shelly said, with a sad frown, “It’s not that…it’s not like we shouldn’t give a moment to her memory…”

“Then, why won’t you?!” Lucy pleaded.

Shelly shied away. She was clinging to Yukina’s arm now, needing comfort. She let her love hold onto her, comforting her quietly in her own way. They would go into private later, where Shelly could bawl out her frustration into Yukina’s arms.

“We all love Sofia,” Nonna spoke with a stern voice that became heavy with her Russian accent. It was a beautiful accent, but sometimes hard to understand. “She died. We are all sad. Some of us are already weeping, but some of us are still trying to wrap our heads around it.”

“That’s rather insightful,” Shelly whispered under her breath, “For having just joined in and learning of her death.”

“It’s not a lack of love or grieving,” Nonna went on, not hearing Shelly’s words, “It’s that there is a lot of stress and a lot to do. Respawn went down…Sofia is dead…we’re all… _here_ now…wherever _here_ is supposed to be.”

“Here is supposed to be a new stand,” Ash said, “Or at least one of them.”

“It’s one of the secured locations of operation, from what I’ve heard,” Adaliz added, “One of the Scouts said some of us are going to another location in a few days.”

“Well, now we aren’t,” Nonna said, with a dominating sternness.

“What makes you say that?” Shelly asked.

“Because we’re going back,” Nonna explained, “We’re getting everything together, singing those contracts and heading back to where we belong.”

“Did you not hear a word I said?” John looked absolutely appalled at hearing this.

“Are you out of your- oh wait…you don’t know the whole of what’s going on,” Shelly groaned.

“Nonna, Mann Co _sent_ those…people…after us,” Ash interjected, “And it could only have been Mann Co authorized personnel who shut down our respawn.”

Shelly nodded in agreement, “I looked at the specs. It’s the only chance. They shut it down remotely.”

“Why though?” Adaliz pleaded softly.

“It was just a…routine system thing,” Nonna insisted, “Your contracts were up! You know? It just kinda…had an automated shut down.”

“That’s not true,” Shelly’s voice became bold. She was certain of herself in this, having worked for years as an Engineer, one who had specialized in improving the respawn machine. “There is no automated system,” she said sternly, “The idea was canceled years ago when it was found to be a problem. There were no more automated systems, or even automated _commands_ placed on the respawn machines.”

“See? They thought they could try it again!” Nonna insisted, “They thought their equipment had gotten better, but when the time came for our contracts to be up, the system shut us out!”

Lucy ran her hands over her face, “Fuck you all.” She turned and stormed off, probably to find something to drink.

“Somebody should go after her,” Shelly said, looking to Ash.

“She’s angry with me,” Ash protested.

“Give her back the alcohol,” John sighed, “Just give it to her. She wants a drink. She wants to grieve. Let her grieve in her own way while she can. We’re not fighting right now. We’ll worry about her drinking when it affects her work. Alright?”

Ash looked to each of them, then sighed. They shook their head and turned to Nonna, “None of us are signing those contracts. Mann Co betrayed us. It’s been Mann Co Productions for years. Maybe for however long we’ve been hired on.”

“I’m sure as hell that I’m not signing any contract with Mann Co,” Shelly added, nodding.

“We’ve been manipulated, cheated, and attacked,” Ash insisted, “We’re not going back there, Nonna.”

“You don’t understand,” Nonna pressed, “We _have_ to go back.”

“Nonna, did you sign a contract?” Adaliz asked, giving the Spy a concerned look.

“We have to go back,” Nonna pressed on, ignoring the question, “What do you expect to achieve here, exactly?”

“Take down Mann Co Productions, of course,” a voice interrupted them. They all turned to see Alan looking on with his goggles over his eyes. “It’s time Mann Co had what’s coming to it.”

“Engineer? You too?!” Nonna exclaimed with surprise.

“Mann Co isn’t going to take us back,” he went on, “We’ve been played for too long.”

“That’s right,” Shelly nodded in agreement.

“We can’t go back,” Alan added, “Any promise of continuation of our contracts is a lie.”

Nonna seemed like she was a little desperate, “But you don’t-”

“That’s the end of it,” Dr. Ash said sternly. There were a few moments of silence, before Ash spoke again, “Nonna, you should go lay down. Adaliz, take care of her. Everybody else, get your wits together.”

Without another word, they tightened their grip on the bottle in their hand and left. Yukina watched the doctor leave. She hoped that she was going to talk to Lucy. The Demoman definitely needed support.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ash was relieved to find Lucy lounging on a chair. She was sort of flopped over the armrests, with her head dangling over. She looked like she might even be asleep already. Surely she had yet to drink that much yet though.

“Lucy,” Ash called to her as they approached.

Lucy raised her head, “What do _you_ want?”

Ash handed her the bottle. They waited as Lucy took the bottle and looked at it. She gave Ash a curious and almost suspicious expression.

“You’re letting me drink again?” Lucy glared at them.

Ash folded their hands behind their back, freed of the bottle, “We were having a serious moment back there, Lucy. I understand that it’s hard to recover from a comrade’s death, but…we are all suffering through this. What’s more, we needed you to help calm the others. I needed you to act like a damn adult for once.”

Lucy sat up, throwing her feet down. She got to her feet and got up in Ash’s face, despite their severe height difference. Lucy did not care, she got up on her tip toes to put her face into Ash’s face.

“I am a damn adult! And how dare you stand there apathetically blaming me for what’s going on!” Lucy poked their chest with a finger.

“Then act like it! I’m not blaming you for anything, Lucy. I don’t lay any of this on your shoulders, but we needed you to show some support,” Ash explained. They backed off in their tone a bit, not wanting to be too stern with her.

“And how is that any more important than grieving?!” Lucy demanded.

“Do you care _at all_ that we have discovered that Nonna is alive and well? Have you worried about her at all? Or have you even considered how this must be for some of us?” Ash demanded, “She’s been gone for weeks. Now we have her back, and you want us to stamp out our feelings to make way for yours?”

Lucille was quiet. She stood there breathing in Ash’s face. She did not back down though, all the while trying to decide what to say in response to Ash. Her expression started softening though. It was apparently sinking in that what she had done was completely inconsiderate to the rest of the team.

“Come on, let’s sit down,” Ash stepped around her to take a seat. Lucy hesitated only a moment before sitting down next to them. “I know you need time to grieve,” they softened their voice significantly, “You deserve time to grieve. All of us do. You and Sofia were close, weren’t you?”

“Yea,” Lucy sighed. She reached into her vest and pulled out a picture. Ash leaned over to look at the picture that she was holding. “We were good friends, and I miss her,” Lucy sniffled as tears welled up.

Ash reached into their waist coat to hand her a handkerchief. Lucy took the handkerchief and rubbed her eyes. They turned their gazes to the picture, and it sort of took Ash a moment as the last memory of Sofia charging into battle jerked at their heart. They never got to say goodbye.

  
  
  


[View on Deviantart](http://freelancemem.deviantart.com/art/Sofia-2001-680511958)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new organizational format for Mann Co Productions: http://mcglothlin-clason.wixsite.com/manncoproductions


	37. Differing Goals Among a Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Different teammates have different things in mind.  
> They all want different things, now that their goal has not been set for them.
> 
> Adaliz and Yukina find out that Nonna's may be a problem for the whole team.

The day was gloomy outside of the window. Nearby on the bed, Adaliz could hear Nonna’s soft breathing. She was dead asleep, seemingly exhausted after whatever endeavor she had been on. She had never come back so terribly traumatized. She did not even seem like the same person anymore.

She hoped that she could get Nonna back on her feet. She usually bounced back after disappearing for a while. It was not usually more than a couple of days. And then, it was not usually accompanied with so much exhaustion that she could not put on airs.

Adaliz turned her attention to the window with a sigh. Things were not going to be the same. She had to accept that.

Sofia was gone and Nonna was hurting. All she could do was try to be there for everybody. She hugged herself at the thought though. Who was going to be there for Adaliz?

A soft knock came at the door, accompanied by a loud rumble outside. So now the clouds were bringing thunder. Perhaps it was called for at this time, to have a bit of a storm brewing.

She got up from where she was sitting and stepped out the door. She leaned against it, staring at the opposing wall. There was so much that she wanted to know. There were so many things that were not fully explained. The vagueness of it all brought Adaliz to one terrifying conclusion: Nonna had signed a contract continuing her work for Mann Co.

She was not sure what they were going to do, but they were going to do something. They had to help her out of her situation. The problem was figuring out how they could fix this. What was more, she was not even sure how the others were going to treat this situation.

After seeing Lucy act up about Sofia’s death not being acknowledged at that moment, Adaliz was not even sure how to bring it up to the others. They did not seem to be as relieved to see Nonna alive as they were upset that she was pressing the contracts deal. Granted, she seemed to really want Adaliz to sign her contract as well, but that was certainly not going to happen. There was no way she was going back to having her privacy violated.

“Adaliz?” the deep soothing African voice seemed to hum like chocolate.

She turned her head to look at Nyaga, only slightly surprised at her sudden arrival. She had been zoned out after all. She was not even sure how long she had been standing there staring at the ceiling. There was no better way to sneak up on somebody than when they were distracting themselves.

“Oh, hey Nyaga,” she nodded in greeting, “Nonna’s resting right now. She’s had a rough few weeks, it seems.”

Nyaga nodded. She seemed like she had been in the middle of going somewhere, but now she settled down in place. She shifted her attention, giving Adaliz the attentiveness of a curious animal.

“I was in there keeping her company for a while, but she fell asleep,” she explained, “She’s at least peaceful right now, you know? I’m glad for it, but now I have so many questions. I want her to have time to recover. She obviously went through some sort of hell. I know I shouldn’t be telling anybody, but I know you won’t tell anybody. I think somebody attacked her. Maybe she was molested or taken advantage of while she was vulnerable.”

She shuddered at the thought. She was rambling now, with all of these words just falling out of her mouth. She had not given the thoughts a whole lot of time to manifest, as some of them were just cropping up from the corners of her mind. Still, as each came forth, each started to have a little place in reality that scared her.

“I want to be there for her right now, but I’m really tired too,” she explained, hoping that the Heavy would understand, “Not like the needing sleep kind of tired. Just the brain tired kind of tired. You know? Like when Shelly is burnt out on blue prints? Or when doc needs a day off from surgery? When you pick them up and carry them off to take a break, even though they are dead set on finishing whatever crazy thing they had started. And then they complain all day about not having work done, because you won’t let them get back to it.”

She let herself chuckle for a bit. It felt good to let out some laughter. It was better than the tension that had gripped her tummy before. She needed more of this to loosen her up and make her feel better.

“Or when they are both burnt out,” she continued chuckling, “And you gotta put them together someplace for a break. Those two will do anything to get their work done though. Shelly is a bit better than doc though. I gotta say, I don’t know what gets up Medic’s butt when they are working overtime.”

Nyaga made a small grunt and gave her a disapproving look. She probably said something that Nyaga did not like. She guessed it was probably talking about Medic’s butt. She never did seem very comfortable with talk about personal parts of the body, even butts. It was probably just a personal thing.

“Right, yea…” Adaliz chuckled nervously, “You’re right. I shouldn’t talk like that. Anyways…I don’t have much I can do right now. I’m burnt out myself. I just need like…a break or something…maybe an hour outside with a baseball bat and a ball would help me. I just…need out into the open air…with some free space. You know? This is driving me insane being all cooped up in here.”

Nyaga nodded in agreement. She did not comment on it though, seeing no reason to. The gesture satisfied Adaliz well enough, so she offered a smile.

“Think I’ll go do that! Thanks for the chat, Nyaga!” she saluted the Heavy before hurrying back inside. She quickly got changed, grabbed her bat, and headed outside for some play time. It was a nice day, being much cooler outside than it was in the desert.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Waking up to an empty room, Nona took the time alone to make a phone call. She loosely held the phone to her ear. She closed her eyes and listened to the ringing. Such a frustrating sound that she hated. She wished that time could have erased the ringing of phones from existence, replacing it with something more humane on the ears. Although, she should probably just be glad that progress had graced humanity with the invention of the mobile cellphone.

“Hello, this is the office of Gray Mann. How may I help you?” a secretary’s voice came over the phone.

“Calling for Grey Mann,” she stated. It was not even a request, as she simply did not have the energy in her to make herself seem pleasant.

“Do you have an appointment?” the secretary asked.

“No, I’m his financial manager,” she lied, not wanting to deal with the woman on the other end of the line.

“Just a moment please,” the woman said.

The line went silent thereafter, leaving Nonna to her lonesome. She sighed and leaned back, placing her head on the pillow. If she was going to be there a while, she might as well relax.

“Hello? If this is about that damn income gross thing-!” Grey Mann’s voice growled over the phone.

“Mister Mann, I have some underwhelming news that requires your attention,” she informed him.

 

*********************************************************************

Yukina stared at the wreath of flowers she had made. It sat loosely in her hands after a few hours of making. She thought that maybe having a teammate express some love would make Nonna feel better. What she was hearing through the door was concerning though.

Surely Nonna did not mean to call Mann Co and inform the company of their contracts yet, right? Of course, maybe she just wanted to inform him immediately. She must have been through something harsh, because she could not be thinking clearly. Normally, this kind of thing would have been discussed with the team. Shelly and Ash being like the parents of the team meant that they should have been brought into the decision making of all of this first.

Nonna went on to explain it all to him in a way, as if she had failed to convince them to sign the contracts. As if she still had the desire for them to sign on. She had to be desperate if she was talking like this, but why?

She listened as Nonna argued. The man sounded angry, based on the way she was defending herself. She sounded rather desperate to calm him down and convince him to give her time. Time for what though?

Nonna pressed the side of her mask to the door. Sure there was rubber blocking her ear, but she had to know. She had to know what was going on in there.

The arguing went on in a heated manner. Finally, Nonna name dropped. Yukina’s heart dropped. Terror filled her mind as she tried to understand the implications. Nonna was talking to Grey Mann.

This was not good. She stepped away from the door as she minded herself just how terrible this situation was. Grey Mann was the most dangerous of any Mann. Shelly and Ash had said so before, and both of them had disdain for him. It had sounded like they had personal reasons for vendettas against him though.

Still, Yukina moved slowly away from the door, terrified of being caught. She did not want to listen anymore. She wish she had not listened.

Tears burned her eyes as she broken into a run. She had to find somebody. She had to tell Ash and Shelly about what was going on. She had to tell everybody that Mann Co had involved Grey Mann in their contracts and that things were worse than they had thought.

Her feet slowed as she came outside. The air out here was cool and crisp. She wanted to take her suit off to feel it. There was this sensation of cool water in the air, like it was going to rain.

She shook the thought about the weather from her mind. That had not been what had slowed her feet. What had slowed her feet was the inkling thought about Nonna. The truth about all of this, and the inevitable connection she must have had to Clovis. There had to be a connection there, given her previous harassment. And if she knew that they had been under contract with Grey Mann, then she must know something about what happened to Clovis.

“Uh…hey Pyro,” a Scout caught her attention.

She looked up to see one of the boys looking at her, a bat leaned against his shoulder. He was peering at her, or rather at her mask. He seemed very confused. A couple of other boys stood off behind him, a little put off by the sound of her breathing through the mask. She was panting from running, which must have been disturbing them.

“I got her,” she heard Adaliz approach before she came into Yuki’s line of sight, “Hey, what’s up?” She put a gentle hand on Yukina’s arm.

She looked at the hand. It was such a kind and gentle hand, connected to a kind and gentle young woman. Barely older than Yukina herself, the two of them had a kindred connection of being the two youngsters of the team. There had been a third, but Sofia had always been older than her age by miles.

She took Adaliz’s shoulders and looked her in the face. She had to tell her. She had to know what was happening. Worse, she had to know that it was the woman she loved most who was betraying them. It was probably better this way. Adaliz personally needed to know first.

She was halfway through explaining it all when Adaliz pulled her aside. She wrapped an arm around her shoulders as she led Yukina away from the area.

“Listen Yuki, I can’t hear you,” Adaliz informed her, adding a few words of French, as if talking to herself, “So, let’s go sit down and you can tell me over the radio waves.”

Yukina nodded in agreement and followed her lead. Adaliz brought her to a copse of trees, where the foliage gave off a brilliant light of its own. It was really just the light bouncing off of the leaves, but it had this magical feeling. It must have been the green color of the light bouncing off of them that made it feel that way.

“Alright,” Adaliz pulled out a walkie talkie and turned it on. She set it down as she sat down, then she patted a seat next to her.

Yukina chose to sit down across from her. Adaliz would need space for this explanation. So, she began explaining, as best as she could. Sometimes she was not all that good with English and people made that apparent for her, but she tried her best. She only hoped that Adaliz understood how hard she was trying to make it clear for her. And how much it hurt her to know all of this stuff before her.

She listened about everything in silence. She listened about the contracts and Grey Mann. She even listened to Yukina’s added concerns. She listened to her explain with regret that Nonna had harassed Clovis and brought up his dead family. She even went on to put a point that Nonna might know what happened to Clovis. Nonna did not even know Clovis was with them and in a coma.

Adaliz was nodding. Then she was crying, tears moving slowly down her face. She looked so confused, forming a wall that widened her eyes against more tears.

“Adaliz?” Yukina spoke hesitantly.

Adaliz sniffled, “We can’t tell anyone yet.” She snatched Yukina’s shoulders, rising to her feet.

Yukina felt a bit shaken at the movement, but understood that it was just Adaliz feeling distraught. This was all just because of the emotions. They were both feeling hurt. Adaliz had barely finished recovering from Nonna’s return. There was so much for them to take in.

“But, they need to know,” Yukina spoke hesitantly, “Need know.” English was feeling much harder than it had a minute ago.

“No…they can wait,” Adaliz insisted, “Just…hang in there with me. Okay? I want to talk to her. Maybe she’s just…in a bad place. You don’t know her like I know her. We…me and Nonna have a special relationship. Kind of like you and Shelly. Nonna tells me things that she doesn’t tell others. She can’t tell others. Okay? You just gotta trust me. Can’t you trust me?”

Yuki felt tears in her eyes. She felt scared. She felt shaken. She wanted to tell Ash and Shelly very badly. She wanted to go to them now and make it clear what she heard and what happened. They were logical enough to figure it out from there.

“Just let me talk to her,” Adaliz insisted, giving her shoulders a shake, “I can…I can straighten things out. I just have to talk to her. I have to know what’s going on. I’m sure she has an explanation. It’s just Spy stuff. You know? She has to do what she has to do. We have to be understanding that she cannot share everything she does with us. She does this stuff. She tells me a lot of stuff, but she cannot tell us all the stuff. Okay? Just let me have a chance to sit down and talk with her.

Yukina cringed and nodded. She did not want to go along with this, but there was not much choice. What could she do? Hurt her teammate by going behind her back?

“Great,” Adaliz sighed with relief, “Let’s go. I’ll…talk to Nonna. You can see for yourself. She’s not a bad person. She just has…something mixed up. When we sit down, we’ll be able to straighten this all out. It’ll be better, I swear. She’ll even have a good explanation for this. I promise.”

Adaliz turned off the walkie talkie and tucked it into her pocket. She gestured with her head for Yukina to follow and they made their way back to the base. Yukina hoped she would not regret this decision.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Ashlynn looked to Shelly with a mixed set of feelings. Dread was one of them. Panic was inevitable. A sense of fear for Yukina and Adaliz. There was a shred of relief that they had found this out. In the end, they could not believe that Yukina and Adaliz were actually going to leave them out of this.

“Those girls are in so much trouble,” anger made Shelly’s Irish accent thick like a rice cake, “When I get to knocking the sense into them.”

“Mind your anger,” Ash said firmly. They did not want Shelly to overreact to the situation. After all, they both had to worry about Yukina.

“You _did_ hear the same thing that I just did, right?” Shelly turned to her, frowning.

“I did,” Ash nodded, putting on a placid appearance, “And we are both concerned. I am sure we both heard the emotionally unstable young woman who probably puts too much trust…in Nonna. And Yukina is stammering into a mess. She sounded a bit on edge.”

Shelly looked down at the floor, a bit ashamed, “Those girls are a bit messed in the head. They aren’t thinking straight.”

Ash nodded, folding their hands behind their back, “So, we need to handle this, before either of them warn Nonna that anybody knows…or before Nonna has a chance to bury whatever she has done.”

Shelly hesitated. She frowned at the floor, furrowing her brow with apparent frustration. The anger did not show quite as much when she looked back at Ash.

“Do you really think Nonna did something? I mean…Clovis and Nonna both being Spies…do you reckon they had competition with each other?” Shelly asked, hesitantly.

“I doubt that is the case,” Ash tried to puzzle out what was going on in her own mind. From what she had heard, Nonna had been trying to intimidate Clovis and not the other way around. Perhaps Nonna had done that to Fish before, and nobody knew about it. “Anyways, we should be going, before their fast feet get there.”

Shelly jumped and the two of them started running. They rushed through the halls and hurried towards the room where Nonna was supposed to be. At least they hoped it was. They might have to check a few rooms before they remember where exactly she was.

“Those girls better not stir up any trouble,” Shelly limped along, carrying the hand radio they had been listening to. She turned down the volume so nobody else would hear, but left it on so they could hear what Yukina and Adaliz were up to.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nyaga found Lucy laying sprawled somewhere random. She was staring at the ceiling. Nearby, Cletis had passed out in a drunken stupor. He snored loudly, unaware of his surroundings in his slumber.

When Lucy did not notice her approaching, she walked over and leaned so that she was in Lucy’s line of sight. The smaller woman blinked up at her, eyes red from drinking and crying. She sat up, still staring at Nyaga.

“I…” Lucy looked at the bottle in her hand, gasping as she was about ready to cry again. She looked back up at Nyaga, tears filling her corneas, “I miss her! Okay? I miss her!”

Nyaga took a seat next to her. She watched out of the corner of her eye as Lucy put down the bottle and rubbed her palms into her eyes. She sniffled, with a remnant of the sensation of crying.

“You’re right though,” she sighed, “The team needs me.”

It was funny how people reacted. The team was always like this. Well, perhaps not always like this. Shelly had changed over time, and so had Yukina. Medic was at least the same. They always saw Nyaga the same. Just like they saw everybody the same. Everybody else just had this strange reaction to her though.

Some part of her wanted to drudge up words. To be that motherly figure, having done so for a teen or two in the past. It was part of an old life. However, in that old life, she did not have half the respect as they had for her now.

“I’ll do my best, I promise,” Lucy took a deep breath, “I just…want to remember her. I want to mourn her. I _need_ to mourn her.”

Nyaga placed a hand on her shoulder. It caused her to squeak before she burst into sobs. She gently rubbed circles into Lucy’s back while she herself contemplated Sofia’s death. It was so sudden, after all. It was hard to take in. Thinking about that caused a twinge of pain in her heart. She would miss that caring young woman.

“You miss her too?” Lucy sniffled as she looked up at Nyaga.

She gave her a solemn nod, trying not to let herself cry as well. She could cry later. Right now, she needed to give Lucy a chance to cry her heart out.

“I just…” Lucy looked at her hands, “She became my best friend. As odd as it is. I think it hurts me the most, because me and Sofia were like best friends. Now I…I mean I love you guys, but…I think I loved Sofia more.”

Nyaga rubbed Lucy’s back again. Maybe if she was letting out her emotions more, she would be hurt by that. It was not meant to hurt though. Lucy was just mourning a friend, and that was okay. Sometimes mourners meant what they say, they just don’t mean it to be mean.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Adaliz threw open the door, startling Nonna. She was breathing heavily as she approached the bed. She wanted to tell Nonna that she knew everything, and she wanted to be quick about it, but she needed to breathe.

She stumbled towards the bed and dropped down onto it. She listened as Nonna told the person on the other end of the line that she would call them back and hung up. She glanced up when the Pyro came running in, big boots banging on the floorboards.

“We’re…here…to…talk…” Adaliz panted.

Yukina took the walkie talkie and turned it on. She held it up for Nonna to listen while she spoke. She was panting as well, but had conserved her breath for speaking.

“You can’t just conspire with Grey Mann-” was all that the Pyro had gotten out before Nonna leaped to her feet, “We know you’re scared, and-”

“What do you know? Where are you getting this from? What’s going on?” she took on a look of power, holding herself in a haughty and elegant stance. It was one of the most beautiful looks on her.

“Nonna,” Adaliz huffed and sat up on the bed, “Yukina heard you. She told me everything she heard. About how you were on call with Grey Mann. You were talking about our contracts. Nonna, did you sign a new contract? Are you still technically working with him?”

“Are you?” Yukina pressed eagerly.

“You can tell us the truth! We’re your friends!” Adaliz pleaded, “You can trust me!”

Nonna looked from one to the other. There was something elegant in the way she stood. It helped that she was so much taller than them. Either way, she had this look of power and elegance that made her seem like she was in control of everything. Adaliz felt calmer, just looking at her.

“Does anybody else know?” Nonna finally asked.

Yukina hesitated, but Adaliz was quick to shake her head, “Not that we know of. We came straight here, to talk to you.”

“Good,” Nonna sighed in relief, “Let’s go.”

Adaliz looked to Yukina, who looked back to her. She could not tell what the Pyro was thinking through her mask, but she figured she might be as confused and worried as she was. The moment Nonna walked out the door though, the two of them followed obediently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I might actually be close to finishing this fic!  
> To those who have either stuck around from the beginning or left some criticism on this work, thank you.  
> Your comments have meant a lot to me, as my joy for writing multiplies when something I have made is enjoyed by others.  
> And for those comments, be they excitement for the next chapter, a headcanon about a character, or criticism, thank you. they mean a lot to me. They help me improve my writing. And to know that people enjoy my work, that I am not alone in thinking I'm decent at writing, gives me an ego boost like you wouldn't believe.
> 
> Edit: more information http://madoushi-ryuu.wixsite.com/manncoproductions/dontcrossmercs
> 
> I'm done rambling now...
> 
> Next chapter is coming soon. Thinking this might end in about 5 more chapters.


	38. No Time to Explain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no time to explain what's going on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look who finally updated this old thing!
> 
> I promise I've been working on it, and I still am. It has not even been on the back burner lately, it has just needed more time to form.

Ash gave no time for response, kicking the door open with a loud yell, “Spy! You’re-”

Nobody was there to hear them. The room was completely void of life, except for the person who came barging in. This was definitely not a relief.

“Are the girls there?” Shelly panted, as she limped over as quickly as she could. Her head spun as she looked around, her curly red locks whipping about.

Ash frowned and let Shelly look for herself, “They are gone.”

They turned and headed down the hallway. They could hear the clunking limp gate of Shelly following quickly behind them. She was not having an easy time keeping up though. They slowed their gate to make it easier for Shelly to follow along.

“Where are we going?” Shelly asked.

“We’re going to find out where they are,” Ash said, pondering all possibilities, “Check the channels. See if Yukina is talking again.”

“She wouldn’t have changed the channel randomly,” Shelly protested, holding up the radio where Ash could see it.

“I understand, but we cannot be sure,” Ash insisted, “We don’t know what Nonna’s up to. We _do_ know what Nonna is capable of. Knowing Nonna, she could have instructed Yukina to change it and she would not have even asked why.”

“Adaliz might have,” Shelly offered.

“She might have,” Ash agreed, “But she might also not have asked.”

“Doc, are you seriously going to doubt these two? They’re grown women, they can take care of themselves,” Shelly insisted.

Ash tightened their lips, feeling irritated at one of their closest friends. It was hard to be mad at Shelly, but this was not a time to question rationale. They had to worry about what had happened to Adaliz and Yukina. It was irrelevant that both were of adult age, when Ash knew that Nonna was capable of dangerous things.

“Come on, doc,” Shelly pleaded, “Talk with me.”

“I’m not sure what there is to talk about,” Ash spoke with a defiant voice.

“Perhaps we should start with where they could have gone. They probably went to…er…” Shelly slowed to a stop, taking a deep breath, “The two of them would be running around outside if it was up to them.”

“Nonna wouldn’t be playing outside, Shelly!” Ash trotted out to where the trucks were.

“Then,” Shelly followed breathlessly, “Why are we out here?”

Ash looked around, trying to decide on how the vehicles were before. A sneaky Spy knew how to keep people off of her trail. But, when Ash approached the nearest truck, they were surprised to see nothing slashed or broken. At least, it was not evident on the surface.

“Ash? Is there something you’re not sharing with me?” Shelly asked with worry in her voice.

“Let’s get in a truck that hasn’t been sabotaged,” Ash turned to her, knowing Shelly would be better at seeing which vehicles had not taken to any quick sabotaging. Ash only knew of the obvious, a slashed tire.

Shelly gave them a startled expression, “You think she would have sabotaged vehicles? Ash, aren’t you jumping the shark here a little bit?”

“You hardly know what I’m doing,” Ash insisted, pointing to the truck, “Does it look like it can drive?”

“Looks fine to me,” Shelly said, a bit nervously.

“Good,” Ash climbed into the driver’s seat, “Get in, and keep that radio tuned.”

 

*********************************************************************

 

Lucy watched the truck pull away with confusion. If they were going to town, surely they would have told the others. Something had to be up. Given that she saw Medic leave without the Heavy at their heels, she figured she could find out more from Nyaga.

She hurried through the base, seeking out the woman. It was quite the trip, given she was the shortest on the base. Everybody was taller than her, man and woman alike. On short legs, she had to run to get as far as most of the men could walk.

“Hey Lucy!” she heard a familiar voice and looked around.

She shook herself. That can’t be right. That is not what she heard. That was something unreal and made up in her mind. Sofia was dead and gone, she could not be calling out to her.

She took a careful breath as she pressed on, searching the base’s hallways for the Heavy. There were many Heavys here, but not the one she wanted. There were big Russian men whose bellies jiggled. There were big weight lifters whose bulk in muscle alone was larger than her entire body. There were even a few Heavys from Australia. Almost all of those men were big strong men with thick bodies that had been trained from a young age to carry and manage large amounts of weight and extensive work.

She had to push herself beyond most of these men. Just to be at the fit shape she was in, she had to work out every day. Now that she thought about it, she had not been sticking to her usual workout routine as she used to. Since coming here, she felt a little less welcome in the workout areas, where men crowded the area.

They had big voices that towered over hers, shrouding out her “excuse me” and “pardon me” when she needed to get through somewhere. Their hulking masses were impressive, but not the most important thing, as many of them seemed to think her workout sessions were much less important than theirs. At least there had been very few, maybe two incidences of men openly gawking at her or commenting on her when she was working out. If they talked secretly amongst themselves about her, she would never know, and she preferred not to.

She glanced down every hallway, but almost missed the woman she was looking for. She quickly backpedaled, finding that the woman was standing in the hall as Smith ranted endlessly about something. Given how his words tended to be filled with near nothing, a contrast to the few words that had strong meaning when Nyaga spoke, Lucy had no context for how important this conversation actually was. It could be that Nyaga was trying to comfort him in some way, or she was just being polite and letting Smith getting his wind out.

Whichever the case, Lucy could not necessarily wait to ask what was going on, “Nyaga!”

Her proclamation brought both pairs of eyes to her. John suddenly stopped talking and looked at her, absolutely bewildered by her appearance. Nyaga simply turned slowly and blinked, kind of like a cat would. She was no doubt thinking over everything John had said, while processing Lucy’s sudden and hasty exclamation.

“Lucy!” the familiar voice came again. It was strange, but she had to shake it off. She had to pay attention to what was going on in front of her.

“You alright? You seem a bit pale,” Smith noted, curiously, “Though maybe that’s just from getting less sunshine. Are you getting out as much? There’s not as much sunshine here, but there’s _some_ around. You know? You just gotta get out into it and breathe it in. We should all go outside together! In fact, I think we should make it a routine. It would help us all feel better. We could all go outside, do our exercises and be in the sunshine together! What do you think, Nyaga?”

The woman gave him a slow nod. She was not going to say anything that a nod could not already convey for her. She was content to let the Soldier get his wind out too, so Lucy would have to make him pause.

“No no no!” Lucy cut him off, “Listen! Listen! Nyaga, the others went off in a truck after Spy left with Scout and Pyro. Where are they going? They didn’t tell _me_ about it. If they’re going to town, I kind of wanted to go too.”

“Is that all?” the Soldier gave her a stunned look, blinking so confusedly.

“Is that all?” Lucy scoffed, “Nobody said nothing to me about it!”

“Doctor did not talk to me,” Nyaga started walking, her long legs carrying her quickly down the hall the way that Lucy had come. John and Lucy shared a look and followed at her heels.

Nyaga led them out to where the trucks where, sitting parked in a row. Nearby, a small crowd of Scouts was gathered, either bragging about themselves or throwing a ball around. None of them seemed to even catch on as the Heavy’s disposition changed from the usual calm to a frantic worry.

“Nyaga?” Lucy hesitated, sparing the Soldier a sidelong glance.

“Where?” was all the Heavy said. It was a simple question, but for some reason it boggled Lucy’s mind in that moment.

“What?” John spoke up for the two of them.

“Where did they go? Which way did they go?” Nyaga turned to Lucy.

She shrank back, feeling a bit stunned that she was now the focus of questioning. She could not even rely on the Soldier to step in, as he had no idea where anybody had gone. All she could do was point towards the road that she thought she saw the truck go toward.

Nyaga raised her head to look at the road. Her lips tightened into a thin line, or as thin as it could get being the size that they were. She glared at the road, before she looked back at her two gawking teammates.

“Are we going to town?” John asked, looking between Lucy and Nyaga.

“Get in a truck,” Nyaga turned to the vehicles, “We will follow them.”

“Is something wrong?” Lucy asked, as she headed to one of the vehicles. She climbed into the front passenger seat, not wanting to drive while she was semi-intoxicated.

“I’ll drive!” John volunteered with a big smile on his face.

“Alright, you drive,” Nyaga responded to him, climbing into the back of the truck, “I’m not sure yet what’s going on.”

There was silence as John fiddled with the vehicle to get it started. They caught a lucky break that this one had the keys hidden in the glove box. Not very hidden if you asked Lucy, who had seen people go to great lengths to try and hide a key.

They pulled away from the base in silence, headed down the road in the direction that Lucy hoped the others had gone. Perhaps everything was a big misunderstanding. Things could be sorted out, after all. That or perhaps Nyaga was upset with someone in one of the vehicles that left.

If that was the case, then Lucy wanted to be the last person there. She wanted to be anywhere but there. There was nobody who wanted to stand between Nyaga and whatever she wanted. She had never seen the woman legitimately angry off of the battlefield, but could gander that the woman would break a man twice her size if he stood in her way. A woman like that was not the kind of person you could just bat your eyes at and hope that everything goes well.

“I think if we go into town, we should stop by a store,” John said, as if ignorant to the subject at hand, “Our clothes need washed properly, and the soaps we had ran out. I don’t want to smell like an old dirty man anymore. You know? I would just go myself, but it seems like a waste to go all of that way just for myself, and just for the soaps. It seems like something we should make a much bigger trip of. So, having more than one person in the vehicle seems the most right way to do this. Fundamentally, I would not be driving, but you seem intoxicated, and you seem angry.” He pointed to each respective woman he was indicating. “In any case, I smell like a dirty old man now, and it’s gross. I don’t know how you’ve ignored it for so long, but I’m plum tired of seeming like less than a perfectionist Navy man! I served my country in the military dammit! We have rules about how you keep your uniform! This is a disgrace to uniforms everywhere! I know America and Jamaica wouldn’t stand for it! And uh…wherever you’re from.” He gestured vaguely towards Nyaga.

It never occurred to Lucy that somebody else might not be aware of some bits of information that most of the team knew. Most everybody knew that Nyaga was from Botswana. Either John was forgetting because he was not thinking too deeply, or nobody thought to tell him.

It seemed like there was no better time than the present to make it clear, “Botswana.”

She felt a chill up her spine and glanced at Nyaga. She felt like maybe she had overstepped the boundaries by answering for her. Much to her surprise, Nyaga was not even looking at her, and did not seem the least bit upset about her homeland being revealed to the Soldier. That was more than a little relieving, since she did not want to tick off the Heavy.

“What are we following them for anyways?” John went on, “I didn’t catch anything about why we’re going where we’re going. I don’t get what we’re doing. If we’re chasing them down for the sake of chasing them down, I think it’s silly. They would not leave without us. We all know that. You know that. I know that. We all know that.”

“You’re talking in circles,” Lucy told him.

“But we all know!” he told her pointedly, “The others would not leave without us. So, why are we chasing them?”

“John,” Nyaga spoke suddenly.

The Soldier fell silent, listening with an intent ear. There was nothing fearful about the way he was hushed. Lucy could see it from the way he tilted his head, listening for the woman’s response.

“We will get you your laundry soap,” she told him firmly, “First, you will drive us to wherever they’ve gone. We will make a trip to town after.”

“Roger that!” John saluted, before turning his full attention to the road.

Lucy looked on with disbelief. It was like the woman had somehow flicked a switch. Did she just know how to talk to John? Lucy had never seen anybody other than the Medic be able to handle John so easily and quiet him down. Not to mention the focus that he turned to his task.

“Lucy, your job is navigation,” dark eyes turned to her as the woman scanned Lucy’s face.

Lucy swallowed her fears, “I uh…I don’t actually know where they went.”

“I know,” Nyaga affirmed, “Look for signs.”

“Oh, okay,” Lucy nodded nervously. She turned her attention back towards the road, looking around for any clues. Maybe they pulled off somewhere or some stray skid mark would catch her attention.

She felt more and more desperate the longer this took. It seemed quite impossible for them to actually find the others. They might as well be getting lost, for all Lucy could tell.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Speeding along the road, Adaliz felt like she was in a bad place. Nonna seemed unstable, like she was absolutely terrified. She was unhinged by the threats that Adaliz had yet to fully learn about.

“Nonna, where are we going, exactly?” she asked, nervously. She watched the road signs and streets. She was not sure what else she could do for their situation.

“I um…” Nonna was nervous, her eyes flickering around as she drove. Her hands were holding tight to the steering wheel. Something was very very wrong.

“Nonna,” Adaliz put a hand on the other woman’s hand, “Whatever’s going through your head…please. Just…let me help you. I know you’re scared or something. Just tell me.”

“I need you to come with me,” Nonna said, “That’s all.”

“Okay,” Adaliz spoke with hesitation. She glanced over at Yukina, who did not seem very comfortable with the position she was resting in.

“I just need you with me, okay?” Nonna spoke with a bit of aggression in her voice.

Adaliz spoke calmly, “Oh, okay. I get it. Um…but could you tell me where?”

“No,” Nonna shook her head, “Just with me.”

Adaliz bit her lip, “Nonna, you’re scaring me.”

“I- Don’t be scared,” Nonna spoke in a hasty voice. It was certainly not reassuring.

“That can’t be helped,” Adaliz pressed, “Unless you tell me where we’re going.”

“Bridge!” Yukina’s voice came over the radio.

Adaliz shook her head at the Pyro, “No we’re-”

“BRIDGE!” she could hear Yukina through her helmet and it made her head spin to look.

Nonna screamed and swerved as the side of the car ran into the railing and bounced off to spin. Adaliz grabbed onto her seat, trying to keep herself from flying around with only the seatbelt to hold her in place. She closed her eyes as she listened to the muffled screaming of the Pyro.

Terror was replaced with relief upon impact. She was not sure why that feeling of impact brought her so much relief, as the force of it hurt her, slamming her neck against the belt and the back of her head against the seat right after. Everything had a wave of painful shock, before that shock suddenly made her feel invincible.

She heard the panting breath of the woman in the driver’s seat, as Nonna got out of the car. She wanted to call out to her at first. She needed to stay put and check for injuries first. She could not yet bring herself to call out or even speak in a whisper. She felt like the wind had been knocked out of her body. All she could hear was breathing and the sound of a telephone ringing.

A thickly gloved hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked to see Yukina. She could not see the woman’s expression, but was sure that behind the mask was a look of concern.

She gave Yuki a thumbs up, but said nothing. Yukina responded in kind, before settling back in her seat. The two of them huffed with exhaustion from the stress of the incident.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nonna has a history. Ash is the only one on the team who has a clear knowledge of what that history is. Given that they work as the medic, previously as a neurologist, and currently as an impromptu psychologist, they have some knowledge of things that the rest of the team would not even fathom.
> 
> John likes to talk a lot too. He'll speak a lot without saying anything.
> 
> Nyaga has a sense of certain people. Primarily, she knows wherever the doctor goes whenever. She doesn't like not knowing where the Medic has gone.
> 
> To clear up some things about Yukina, she was never properly diagnosed by a psychiatrist growing up. The stereotypes caused her family to hide her instead of facing the music. A mix of the way she has been treated, her childhood fears and the tests that were done on her early on have resulted in disassociation, hallucinations, and episodes that resemble a drug trip. She does not have these often though, so they are often contained within moments of high stress where her mind decides that she requires an escape.


	39. Bodies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nonna betrays the team.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while since I updated this!  
> This chapter has been a long time coming, but for good reason.  
> Heads up! Death and violence ahead.

Nonna picked up the cell phone and put it to her ear, “Yes? Hello?”

“You’ve done nothing I’ve asked,” the man’s deep and growling voice punctured her ear like a dagger.

“I’m sorry, things aren’t working out great,” she admitted, hoping he would have mercy, “Give me a bit of time. I just need to-”

“You’ve had time,” Gray Mann growled at her, “You’ve wasted enough of my time. I don’t waste my time on women like you anymore. You’re to report to the nearest location. Any surviving teammates will be hunted down and used for information. If you have any intel of your own, you should turn it over. My men can be very…persuasive.”

The line ended there. She stared out at nothing. In her mind were a million thoughts. She could not stop imagining what would be in store for her. She turned and looked at the car, realizing that Yukina and Adaliz were there. Her breath caught and tears formed in her eyes as she realized what would soon happen if Gray’s men got a hold of Adaliz and Yukina.

Years of love and affection had gone into her relationship with Adaliz. Years of knowing Yukina to be a precious creature, despite her occupation. They would both suffer endless hours of torture for information.

Information was not something she could care about as much as she cared about Adaliz. The others were too far out of her reach at this point. She could not get to them. All she could do was avoid the music with the two she had brought with her.

She put the phone away and fished through her suit. She pulled out her revolver and checked it. It only had two bullets. She needed a third one. Then again, she had a poison molar installed. She could crack that right after. It would be easier than shooting herself.

She walked around the car, with the gun cocked. She tried not to think about what she was doing. She tried to distance herself from the current situation. She could not get emotional about this. If she got worked up then she would not be able to do this.

She opened the door and almost lost it when Adaliz’s smile turned to her. That smiling face quickly changed to fear as Nonna raised her gun. What was she doing? That had to be the question on sweet innocent Adaliz’s mind.

“I love you,” she spoke softly before letting off a shot. Tears blurred her vision, but she could see that the shot was barely effective. The death would be too slow. The next bullet would just have to be for Adaliz then.

The muffled sound of Yukina in her mask caught Nonna’s attention. She turned just in time to see the Pyro bounce off of the car and leap up, with an axe over her head. She screamed, reacting on instinct as she shot the Pyro through the head.

Pyro and her axe fell out of range, with Nonna backing up. She glanced at Adaliz, who was coughing and choking, trying to breathe through the blood filling her lungs. It was too slow, especially for the one she loved, so she hurried to the back door and grabbed out a spare shotgun kept for emergencies. This seemed urgent enough.

It was an old shotgun, so it only held two shots. She would make sure that Adaliz did not have to suffer anymore. She closed the door to the car and walked back to where she had been standing before.

Adaliz looked up at her. Pain, panic and fear filled the younger woman’s eyes. She was so terrified that it hurt when she raised the shotgun. She had to empty both shells into her chest though, for good measure.

“Goodbye,” she murmured, before the first blast.

Both of them were dead now. Now it was her turn. She adjusted her teeth and tongue, loosening up that fake tooth. She wriggled it for a little while until it cracked open, releasing the cyanide from within.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“There!” Ash pointed, their breath catching. The vehicle had ran into the railing of the bridge. It did not look good, even from this distance.

“Mmhm,” Shelly sigh, “What do you want to bet that she let one of the other girls drive?”

“I don’t think this was a joy ride,” Ash replied, sternly.

“Then let’s find out,” Shelly insisted, “Before we jump to conclusions.”

“Don’t hint at me jumping the shark,” Ash growled with irritation.

“I know you mean well, but you seem like you already have it set in your mind of what happened,” Shelly pressed.

“Fine fine,” Ash gestured dismissively. She did not want to be talked down to like a child right now. “Let’s just find out what happened,” Ash insisted.

They were quiet as they approached the bridge. Ash felt everything in her body go cold as they spotted a lump of a red form on the ground. Ash scrambled for the handle on the door, but they could not look away from the scene. When they did manage to get out, they sprinted to the bundle and shifted the Pyro.

“Yuki? Yuki!” they shifted her body, only to find blood coming from a hole in the front of her mask. Pyro had been shot in the forehead.

“Yukina? You got her?” Shelly came toddling around the front of her truck.

Ash looked up at her, then suddenly leaped to their feet. The turned and darted towards the driver side door. It was still open, as were Adaliz’s eyes. Not yet glazed over, the girl seemed like she was staring at nothing, yet everything at the same time.

“Yuki…” Shelly whimpered.

Ash turned their attention back to Yukina, watching as Shelly dropped to her knees to pick up the bundle of a rubber suited girl. They could not feel anything in that moment. If they could describe it, they would have said they were shocked. Ash had seen these two die on the battlefield a billion times every year, but they were not prepared to see them end like this.

Ash reached out to touch Adaliz’s chin. She was still warm. The death was recent. From what Ash could see, the death was not from the accident either. As little damage as the car had, neither of them should be dead. Both of them had bullet holes though.

“YOU FUCKER!” Shelly screamed to the heavens.

Ash looked over at her, rocking slowly on their heels. How does one cry for two? All of a sudden, emotion washed up and they were unable to keep from laying hands on Adaliz’s face.

“You loved her so much,” Ash croaked, as tears dripped down her face, “You trusted her so well.”

Shelly’s bawling just got louder and louder, while Ash stood partially bent over Adaliz’s body. She could not believe what she was looking at, viewing the tattered front of the Scout’s shirt, a tattered mess of blood that did not look like the work of a woman who loved this girl.

“Why?!” Shelly bawled, screaming to the world.

Ash dropped down, plopping their backside onto the edge of the door. A hand came to rest on Adaliz’s thigh as they looked up through tearful eyes. Adaliz was still staring up, still looking at where somebody had stood over her and shot her in the chest. She was shot at point blank range no less.

The sound of a vehicle caught their ear, but they could not care. They needed more time. They needed to process this. They needed to stare at Adaliz and imagine that she was alive for the moment. They were not even ready to deal with holding the dead body of the girl they had taken care of for so long.

“Doc! Shelly!” Lucy’s voice hit their ears, but they did not fully hear her. They just looked at Adaliz.

“Doc? Doc, what happened?!” Lucy grabbed their shoulders and gave them a shake.

Someone took Lucy’s shoulder and pulled her away. Ash was not paying attention when that someone took their shoulder and came into their view. They had to force their mind to focus as they honed in on Nyaga’s face.

“Medic, are you alright?” Nyaga asked, with a stern tone and forceful hands that made them face her.

“I’m fine…” they could barely hear their own voice speaking, “Adaliz and Yukina…they’re gone…they’re both gone.”

“Nonna’s down too!” Lucy called from the other side of the car.

“You are in shock,” Nyaga squeezed Ash’s shoulders firmly, “This is much to take in.”

“I’m fine,” Ash insisted, though they were not really sure themselves.

“I…I want to…we got to…dammit! John! I need your tongue!” Shelly started stammering between sniffles.

“I hear police sirens,” John commented.

Ash blinked and finally looked up at the others. They were studying the scene, trying to make out what had happened. Ash hopped to their feet, determined to keep their wits about them. They were not the kind of person to just lose themselves, after all.

“Medic, are you sure you’re okay?” Nyaga pressed.

 

*********************************************************************

 

The ride back was silent. It felt like a real hearse. It was like they were off to a funeral, which could have been close to the truth.

Despite respecting the friends who had died, Lucy could not help but feel frustrated that they did not have Sofia’s body to honor as well. The woman deserved better respect than abandonment.

She rubbed her eye, trying to fight back tears. She felt like her insides were burning and everything was tilting sideways a little. God this grieving hurt. It was worse than when she left home. She was sure she had not felt this bad for leaving Jamaica back when she fled to America.

“Demoman is okay?” Nyaga muttered, a bit halfheartedly.

“Yea, I’m okay,” Lucy replied.

She looked at Nyaga while she rubbed her other eye. It was easy to forget that English was the woman’s native language, she just sort of played this part that was expected of her. She was big, quiet, and did not emphasize too much of her English.

She seemed to be thinking, pondering the possibilities. Lucy always wondered how smart she was. She never really talked much outside of the company of Medic. The most she had picked up was a discussion where she explained English medical terms to the Medic. Surely the woman was a lot smarter than she let on.

“Heavy is okay,” Nyaga said, with a nod of certainty.

Lucy nodded in response, “Yea. Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

They traveled on in silence. Neither of them were too willing to talk. In the back of their truck, the Engineer and the Medic were doing something with the two bodies. In the vehicle they had originally taken, John was driving alone. She regretted leaving John to his lonesome as he probably could have used the company, but he was a big boy so he could take care of himself.

“Don’t tell other mercenaries,” Nyaga suddenly said.

“What?” Lucy’s head whipped around to look at her.

“We can’t have fear,” Nyaga stated sternly.

“Fear? Fear of what?” Lucy felt a bit scared herself at the dark brooding tone.

“If they find out that one of ours betrayed us, they might think the rest of us will too,” she explained, “Don’t spread fear about us.”

“But, we’re like them!” Lucy protested, “We’re not going to betray them! We’re not a-” She cut off as Nyaga looked to her, dark brown eyes boring into her soul for a moment.

“Would you have expected Nonna to do this?” she gave a small gesture towards the back of the truck, but Lucy did not look, “I didn’t. Medic didn’t. We all believed her.”

“She was a Spy!” Lucy shook her head.

“She was a good Spy,” Nyaga nodded, “She was also a bad Spy.”

“What do you mean?” Lucy pleaded. Surely this smart woman could bestow some sort of wisdom about whatever happened to her.

“All mercenaries have two sides,” Nyaga said, “Good and bad. Nonna gave to bad.”

“We give to good! We always do! We’re always there for each other! We’re-” a finger stopped her lips from moving as Nyaga silenced her.

“We do what we think is right or necessary,” Nyaga replied, “Don’t tell me nobody ever told you that what you did was wrong.”

The immediate thought that came to Lucy’s mind was the time she blew up the factory. Nobody got hurt though. The fat cats lost some cash and resources, but that was the point! They had to drive home a point that you cannot take advantage of the disadvantaged!

She shook herself, “I would never kill anybody on my team!”

“Nonna said that,” Nyaga replied.

“Why would she have to say that?” Lucy asked warily, “Obviously if she had to say that then there was something wrong.”

“You don’t remember saying that?” Nyaga asked.

She met Nyaga’s eyes again. Terror sank in as she worried about what it might be she was forgetting. Some memory of some conversation or something.

“Medic is smart,” Nyaga turned her gaze back to the road, “Medic is precise. Everything is with reason.”

She paused, focusing on turning the vehicle on the curve of the road. There was also a moment where she glanced warily over her shoulder. Neither person in the back seemed to notice that they were being talked about. Nyaga promptly turned her attention back to the road, shifting in her seat.

“You think that Medic knew?” Lucy asked, warily.

“I know Medic knew,” Nyaga replied, “I knew. Everybody knew. Everybody knows.”

“I don’t understand,” Lucy squeaked.

Nyaga sigh, “You don’t become a mercenary without consequence, a consequence of your actions and decisions. We are mercenaries, and we were hired for a reason.”

Lucy paused, looking down at her hands. It felt strange to think that way about somebody she had cared about. Nonna was like family. Sure, the two of them were not close, but there was a sense of comradery that borederlined family for them. They all knew each other so well, the whole killing people thing might as well have been an incident outside of their control.

“We watch our own,” Nyaga finally broke the silence, causing Lucy to look up at her, “We will make sure this does not happen again. That way they will never know.”

“So what if they knew?” Lucy demanded.

Nyaga turned directly to her, brow furrowed low, “They might kill us.”

That hit Lucy like a train. The reality that there was no respawn was always there now, it was just something that had escaped her usual line of thought. It had been so long since death had been a real threat. Pain and misery was a constant, but death was an easy escape to a point in time when her body no longer felt the pain. The thought of going through respawn felt nice right now, if only to escape that pain in her chest.

“We care,” Nyaga went on, “We care too much. We have to be more watchful.”

“So…who do we watch?” Lucy turned in her seat to look at the two in the back, “Doc?” She looked back to Nyaga, “Shelly?”

“All of them,” Nyaga insisted, “They are smart. They will stay in our sights when they want to be seen.”

Lucy looked back to see the two having a heated conversation. She was not really curious about it. It was usually about science. Probably now they were discussing something that would distract them from the dead bodies they were crouched beside.

“They are still our friends,” Lucy straightened up in her seat.

“I trust Medic,” Nyaga added to that thought.

“You do?” Lucy inquired, “Even though you’re going to watch them?”

“I will watch them,” Nyaga nodded, “I will watch them very closely, because I trust them.”

“That’s…um…really a…oxymoron?” Lucy was not sure if the word fit the bill in this case.

Nyaga chuckled, “I’m not watching for their behavior. Medic does things for reasons. I know reasons. I trust them because reasons.”

“Reasons,” Lucy echoed thoughtfully.

“I don’t trust others who might bring Medic to have new reasons,” Nyaga’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.

“What would cause that?” Lucy inquired.

“Killing their baby,” Nyaga growled angrily.

Lucy felt stiff all of a sudden. She was both confused and terrified. The sheer strength in one hand was enough to make somebody want to bolt if they made Nyaga angry. But a baby?

Lucy looked out the window again. This time, she was greeted by waving hands as the two people in the back noticed her looking. She offered them a smile and waved back.

She regarded the tears in Shelly’s face, mourning and destroyed by the fact that two people she was close to were gone. Medic’s face looked a little farther from that. Taut and strained yes, but there was not a tear on their face. They had this stoic look about them that did not hint at grieving the way Lucy and Shelly clearly were.

Lucy straightened in her seat again, shifting in the chair, “I don’t see it.”

“Yukina didn’t come alone,” Nyaga responded, “Neither did Medic.”

Lucy went quiet, letting their ride fall into the quiet that it had before. Maybe it was for the best that they did not discuss this. It would only frustrate the smarter two of their team. John on the other hand, he might need to be told not to blab before he reached the base.

“Don’t tell other mercenaries,” Nyaga repeated her earlier line, “We must be vigilant for our own.”

“Right,” Lucy nodded, sinking back to relax for the rest of the ride. She figured that Nyaga was pretty smart, and she knew what was up.


	40. Traitors are Not Mourned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soldier is very conflicted about the situation.  
> Soldier also makes a goof.

When they unloaded the bodies, everybody was silent. John did not understand what had happened in the other truck. Nobody was talking to him. Nobody was smiling. Well, he did not expect them to smile, their friends were dead after all.

He smiled until he looked at the body he was asked to move. He frowned at Adaliz, looking like she was sleeping after having beaten somebody until they bled all over her. He kind of wanted to give her a gentle shake, just to see if it was a prank, like this was all some elaborate ruse to make fake their deaths.

“You get her legs,” Lucy insisted, as she hooked her arms under Adaliz’s armpits.

He huffed a sigh and nodded in agreement. He needed to stop thinking like everything was just going to be okay. Things stopped being okay a long time ago. Now was the time to treat this seriously, and to grieve his deceased friends.

It was kind of hard to do with everybody treating different people differently. Sofia’s body being left behind he understood. They had no time to find her and drag her corpse to the trucks that had assembled to save them. Nonna’s body on the other hand had been left there to rot. She might as well have meant nothing to any of them.

He felt guilty for not saying something. He should have called them out on leaving her behind, because she was their friend. She had died and she was their friend. Why would they leave her behind.

“Lucy, we need to talk,” John insisted, as they hoisted the body and headed through a hallway towards the infirmary. He assumed there would be a morgue, but that was where the Medic had requested they move them.

“Not now,” Nyaga interrupted, “Later.”

The tall woman strode with a strong confidence, with the Pyro’s body slung over her shoulder. She did not even look at them as she spoke, keeping her eyes on the ground ahead of her. Each long stride gave off a sense of poise that he was not sure the late Spy could have pulled off: poised but absolutely deadly.

When they arrived at the infirmary, Medic started laying the two bodies out on stretchers. One of the other Medics was watching from a distance, frowning with confusion and concern. He was told nothing though, just like the rest of them. Eventually, Nyaga escorted him and Lucy far from the infirmary, leading the way through the halls to what seemed like a more secluded area.

Better late than never to say something, “We left Nonna behind!”

Both women looked at him, dark eyes staring at him like he had said something completely outlandish. He would not be cowed though. He doubled down his efforts to make it clear how he thought and felt.

“We brought Scout and Pyro from the crash. We did not bring the Spy! The Spy was right there. We could have easily picked her up and brought her. Why did we have not time to take her? The police were not coming that fast,” he explained hastily.

“John, John,” Lucy put a hand on his shoulder, “We get it. You’re upset we left Nonna’s body.”

Nyaga merely grunted. It did not really help John’s mood to be grunted at. He only felt more frustrated at the principle of this matter. To think that of all the people in the world, the Demoman and the Heavy were not understanding why they should have brought the Spy along.

“We left our comrade behind!” he shouted.

Lucy clapped a hand over his mouth and glanced around. Nyaga glanced around, then grabbed Lucy’s wrist.

“Lucy please, let him,” Nyaga insisted.

Lucy gave her an incredulous look, “The hell? But you-”

“We don’t want to silence friend,” Nyaga said, folding her arms over her chest, “Soldier, do you understand what happened?”

“Yes!” he declared, before giving it a second thought. What _did_ happen? Was it a car crash? “No,” he admitted. He did not really give the whole thing a good look, he was never very good at that, even in the Navy.

“Spy betrayed us,” Nyaga stated.

“Spy did what?” John could not believe it.

Lucy squeezed his shoulder, “Nonna’s gun. Nonna…was the only one who did not get shot. She stumbled away without blood, so she poisoned herself.”

“How could she do that?” John protested. He was incredulous that Nonna would do that.

Lucy pointed to her mouth, “She probably kept it in her tooth.”

“But why?!” John exclaimed.

“I…don’t know,” Lucy admitted.

“We don’t know,” Nyaga stated, “Maybe we will never know. We know that Spy killed Scout and Pyro.”

“That’s not a reason to leave her body behind!” John declared.

Nyaga and Lucy shared a look. They did not seem sure about who should speak next, as they were so quiet. They just sort of turned their gazes back to him in content silence.

“We still left her behind!” he shouted.

Lucy took a breath, “I understand how you feel.”

“No you don’t!” he protested.

Lucy squeezed his shoulder harder, “But we didn’t bring them back for much reason.”

“You can’t just ignore the fact that we left her behind!” he squeezed his eyes shut as he felt tears build up in his eyes. It was not fair!

“We left Sofia behind,” Lucy offered.

“That was different! There was no time! We couldn’t get to her! We didn’t even know she was dead and not with us!” John felt a tear escape and he rubbed his eyes on his sleeve.

“Soldier,” Nyaga moved forward to replace Lucy. She put both hands on his shoulders and squeezed them, “There is no easy thing to choose. We did not choose to leave her. We chose to take Pyro and Scout.”

“Why not the Spy?!” the Soldier declared. Lucy looked away guiltily at that.

“Because the bodies aren’t here to be honored,” Nyaga said sternly, “They’re here for our friends to grieve.”

There was a long pause and Nyaga finally backed away. She took a breath, seemingly needing to calm herself down as well. They were quiet for a long minute, just looking at each other.

“Everything is for a reason,” Nyaga went on, “This one is for our smarter teammates.”

“Our smarter teammates?” he paused, feeling momentarily dazed.

“We all know Medic and Engineer are the smartest on the team,” Lucy pitched in, “We need them to be sane. Let them grieve.”

“Right now we need to be careful,” Nyaga went on, “Other mercenaries don’t like traitors.”

That sent a chill up John’s spine. Yes, he understood that well. It fell well within the mantra of typical Mann Co Soldiers. Traitors were not only forbidden, they were targets.

He gave them a firm nod, “Understood!”

There was a breath of relief between them. He stood rigid and at attention, thinking on what this all meant. **Traitor** was the label they gave to Nonna. If she really killed them of her own accord, then she really was a traitor, even if she did die afterwards.

He took a breath and gave a salute, “In memory of our fallen comrades, we will not honor the traitor!”

“Good,” Nyaga nodded.

“No more talk of traitors,” Lucy spoke low, “We don’t need the base knowing.”

He paused before nodding. He understood very well what could happen to them if the others found out there was a traitor. For as little as they were known, the other mercenaries could easily lump them in the same group as being traitors.

“You watch,” Nyaga tapped John’s chest.

“Watch?” he inquired.

“We must watch each other,” Nyaga explained, “No more traitors.”

“No more traitors,” John nodded in agreement, “What if one of us is a traitor?”

“Then we tell each other,” Lucy nodded.

“What if we are all traitors?” John asked. This was a very simple and obvious line of questioning. There was a need for this.

“We are not all traitors, John,” Lucy rolled her eyes.

“Oh…” John hesitated. Of course Lucy would say that to get suspicions off of her. “I’m onto you,” he pointed to her.

 

That evening, the team ate together. He suspected it was pulled together by Nyaga and Lucy. They put together the most generic American dinner they could. It was probably to keep the Medic and Engineer from being alone with their thoughts.

It was a somewhat quiet dinner, with halfhearted chatter about random things. It was mostly about people they had met around the base. John was good at coming up with stuff to talk about, so he chattered as much as he could. If this was distraction, he would be the biggest distraction.

A knock on the doorframe to the room they were gathered in interrupted them. John looked up to see a young Scout. He paused there, looking around at the faces gathered there. Maybe he felt left out and needed a bite to eat.

“Is there something we can help you with Scout?” the Engineer asked, her Irish dialect fluctuating into her tone ever so slightly.

“I…uh…didn’t mean to interrupt,” the Scout spoke slowly and hesitantly, “It’s just that uh…everybody’s wondering about Adaliz and uh…Pyro…”

The tense feeling in the air could have been sliced through with a dull knife it was so taut. John had to do something. He was the biggest distraction in the room. He leaped to his feet, “I’ll handle this!”

“John!” Lucy started scrambling, but had things to juggle to get up.

John on the other hand was free to move and marched out of the room to draw the Scout away. He pulled the kid aside, only to find that there was a man waiting with him. A BLU Soldier that he recognized from before was waiting, watching curiously. He decided to tell them both together, so he drew them aside and away from the door.

“There was an incident,” he explained, “Both of them were killed and we are trying to grieve their deaths with our friends.”

Both men hesitated, then shared a look. Finally, the Soldier spoke up, “We will respect that.”

“So…they were just attacked? Out of nowhere?” the Scout asked.

John frowned, trying to think of a likely story, “From what we can tell, she was shot. Pyro too.” Good, don’t tell too many lies and you won’t have to remember many.

“Um…well, doc was also wondering,” Scout glanced at the other Soldier for backup, “We um…we’re all wondering why their corpses are in the infirmary.”

John was at a loss for that answer. Why _were_ they in the infirmary? When they brought them back, he had figured there would be a morgue. He could not quite form words to explain it away.

“Did you ask them?” another Scout came around a corner. He recognized Tanner, as well as the Sniper trailing behind him, looking dejected and forlorn.

“We’re asking them now,” the BLU Soldier answered.

“Solly?” Tanner blinked at him, incredulously, “You have the answer?”

“Ah yea,” John replied, fumbling for an idea. He was just stalling for the time being.

“Is uh…is everybody else okay?” Tanner frowned, “There was a rumor about Spy being found.”

John opened his mouth and closed it. None of them had thought about the remains of the desert base resident team. Scout of course would want to know what happened to Adaliz. Of course he would question why her body was there. They had become fast friends on day one.

“Uh…well…” he stammered, searching for an explanation.

“What even happened? Were they attacked in town or something?” the other Scout asked, fervently.

“Was it those men in black?” the BLU Soldier pressed, his hands clenching into fists.

“Ah well…” John tried to think of whether he should answer yes to this one or not.

“Soldier,” the Sniper finally spoke up, “Are they…okay? The others I mean.” He gestured towards the doorway that John had come out of.

John paused, looking at the doorway. No, they were not okay. They were not handling this well. In fact, he was fairly certain that the two smartest people he knew were about to break down. If their emotions did not get the better of them, then the mentality of being stuck amongst their own alone would destroy them. Their sanity was important, and John understood that well. It was a big reason he left the service to join Mann Co.

He turned back to the men questioning and held himself up proudly, “They’re doing their best to be strong, but they are grieving loved ones.”

“W-we kind of need a better answer,” Tanner pressed, nervously, “I mean, I wouldn’t mind it!”

John looked at him quizzically, “I…just answered.”

“No no,” the BLU Soldier spoke up, “We need to know why they are in the infirmary.”

“One of the docs wants to move ‘em out,” the Sniper managed to say, “Takes up two spaces that could be used for injured men.

“W-well they are injured!” John exclaimed, hoping to defend the bodies in the infirmary.

“They’re…” Tanner paused to take a deep breath and let it out with a huff< ‘They’re dead, Soldier.”

He sighed himself, “I…I know that.” That came out much weaker and more timid than he had intended.

“We just need something to…uh…get the other doctors to back off,” the other Scout explained, “So you know…whatever it is they are there for they can…still be there for it.”

“Medic said that mourning isn’t a reason to fill space,” Tanner was clenching his hands into fists now, tears filling his eyes.

John was convinced now. They were not the only ones hurting. After seeing the bodies, Tanner was messed up about it. However close he was to Adaliz, it was enough so that he was pained by the loss.

John reached over and clamped a hand over the Scout’s shoulder. He squeezed it, hoping to comfort him. There was an unspoken look between them, something words did not give to them. They did not have to smile either, they just looked to each other and knew the meaning.

“If um…if you don’t have a better reason,” the Sniper hesitated, shifting from foot to foot nervously, “Then Scout and I will move them ourselves. We’ll put them somewhere they’ll be safe until we can bury them together.”

“N-no!” John exclaimed.

He had to stall them. He had to buy his friends more time to mourn in their own way. Hopefully, they would all be able to mourn them together at the burial. That was unless the bodies somehow miraculously came back to life.

“They can’t be moved!” he blurted.

“Why not?” Tanner asked.

“Because…because…because…” looking from person to person he kept losing his train of thought. Because what? Because he did not know why? Because this was the smart mercenaries’ way of mourning? Because he did not know everything his teammates did.

His tongue was still moving, but not of his accord surely, “Because they’re not dead.”

Tanner sighed, “ _Soldier_.”

He had to keep buying time, “Because…because um…doc! Medic is working on a project!”

“What kind of project?” the other Scout asked with intrigue.

“It’s probably just organ harvesting,” the BLU Soldier said with a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Or maybe they’re working on something to help with respawn,” the other Scout argued.

“Is it…are they bringing back Adaliz and Yuki?” Tanner put in, his eyes wide with wonder and amazement at the idea.

Somehow, John landed on this one. Somehow, he picked this moment to agree and say, “Yes!”

He knew it was wrong. He knew it was a lie. Still, the look on Tanner’s face, raised eyebrows and tears in his eyes just gave him so much hope. What was more, the Sniper’s dejected appearance just seemed to brighten. Had he stumbled upon the way to help mourners get over their grief quickly?

“Holy shit! That’s awesome!” the other Scout exclaimed.

“How are they doing it?” Tanner added.

“What are they going to do?” the other Scout put in.

“What will they do?”

“Have they planned what they’re going to do? Or are they going to have to start from scratch?”

“Do they need any help? Cause I can help!”

“I’m totally down to help too!”

“If doc needs help, just tell them to ask!”

“It would be so cool to be involved in helping bring them back!”

John lost track of who was who and who was saying what. Between the two Scouts he grew dizzy and forgot what they were even talking about. When they finally stopped talking, he shook himself to try and get his story straight.

“I will…tell them…” he had to tell the Medic what he had told these men.

“I’m willing to help too, mate,” the Sniper gave a nod.

“Yea, okay,” John slowly retreated to the room where his team was waiting.

They all looked up to him curiously. There was a minute of silence before Lucy spoke up.

“So um…what happened?” Lucy asked, reaching over for something to slather on her burger. He was sure it was ketchup, but his mind was not focused right now.

“Everybody thinks we put the bodies in the infirmary because Medic is working on an experiment to bring the dead back to life,” he answered as quickly as he possibly could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops!


	41. Why?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An argument erupts over Soldier's little mistake.

“What?!” the Medic leaped to their feet first.

“The hell did you tell them, Soldier?” the Engineer was right on their tail, if slower to get up due to their prosthetic.

“What gave you that fucking idea, John?” the Demoman barked.

“I…I dunno,” he felt the blood leave his face. Or…no wait…the blood was rushing _to_ his face, making it redder. “They were asking a lot of questions! It got…really difficult to answer! Now they think the bodies are a part of an experiment to bring the dead back!”

“John!” the Demoman gasped, staring at him with eyes wide as dinner plates.

He looked to the Heavy who looked utterly speechless. Her mouth was even hanging open with disbelief. His team could not believe the utter bullshit he had pulled.

“Oh God!” Medic started to pace, “We have to fix this! We have to change what they know! We can’t let them spread some stupid rumor! This’ll only get us into more trouble! Not to mention if this has gotten back to the rest yet, Sven must be laughing up a storm. I’d be the center of the laughing stock for believing such a foolish endeavor!”

“Who’s Sven?” John asked, though he was sure he was not getting an answer to the question, in the midst of the doctor’s breakdown.

“If we were even to try such a thing, we’d be mobbed for insanity,” Shelly laughed, “They can’t have believed it! They must believe John’s crazy!”

“No hold on a minute!” Lucy piped up, “You’re not giving him enough credit here.”

“All I’m saying is that John comes up with stupid ideas _sometimes_ ,” Shelly raised her hands defensively.

“Either way we’re in quite a pickle,” Medic said as they paced, “Also I’m with Lucy. John isn’t _this_ stupid. At least…I didn’t think so.”

“Th-thanks doc,” he said timidly before he realized he should have kept his mouth shut.

“We…we…just explain it was a misunderstanding,” Lucy cut in, “We tell them that we were talking about things and we were…just…you know…shooting stuff around.”

“They still want to know why you have the corpses in there,” John pressed.

“I don’t know!” Medic exclaimed shrilly.

The room went dead silent. Everybody’s eyes were on the Medic. Their usually pushed back with styling gel hair was bedraggled and falling into their face. The once suave swoop of their bangs now dangled about in a mess from the few minutes they had been discussing this issue.

The rest did not seem to know how to respond to this. They rarely saw the Medic truly upset. Whenever they were upset, they usually resigned to handle it as a private matter in their private quarters. John only ever remembered hearing them howl in anger, screaming angrily in Japanese.

“I’m not of right mind! I’m in shock!” the Medic sounded like they were _admitting_ to this flaw, “I can’t…I can’t fully think straight, so I brought them in to buy some time. Just enough to think about what to do. If nothing else…we’ll bury them in the morning.”

The Medic took a deep breath and pushed back their bangs. They were in such duress under this that John felt guilty for causing this problem. Their friends’ deaths was already having a harsh effect on the team. Now he had gone and made things more stressful for everybody. And of all people, Medic would have been the last to show it.

“Come sunrise in the morning, we’ll go out and pick a spot to bury them,” Medic took a deep calming breath to relax.

“Fuck,” John heard Lucy whimper. She buried her face against her hands as she tried to rub the tears away. She probably did not want to have to dig her friends’ graves either.

“Tonight, I’ll go down to the infirmary and place them in a cold slot,” Medic’s eyes were averted as they thought about what they were going to do, “We don’t have a decently refrigerated area, but we’ll work with what we have. Or at least…I will.”

“I will help you doctor,” Nyaga insisted, “We’ll find a place to keep them for the night.”

“Thank you, Nyaga,” the Medic spoke softly to the Heavy.

“It’s not like they have to last long,” Lucy grumbled, “We’ll be burying them in the morning.”

“We don’t want to deal with rotting stinking corpses by morning,” the Medic argued.

“What if we don’t?” Shelly suddenly asked.

“Don’t be silly,” the Medic said dismissively, “They’ll be pretty disgusting by morning anyways. They deserve a proper burial though.”

“We’ll find somewhere cold where the bodies will disintegrate left,” Nyaga gave the Medic a nod.

“I’m sure the other boys will help,” Lucy added.

“I’ll help round them up,” John agreed. He received an appreciative smile from Lucy for that.

“We’ll need shovels,” Nyaga added, “Make sure to get those.”

“We have plenty,” John nodded, mentally noting how many Soldiers he had seen already carrying shovels around like they were standard weaponry.

He had always thought of the weapon as useful for on the go kills, so he could kill and quickly bury an enemy with one tool. He never thought he would have to use it for his friends though. That thought brought a tear to his eye, wishing he did not have to think about burying Adaliz or Yukina. Worse, they would not bury Nonna or Sofia.

“What about a coffin?” Lucy asked.

“No time for a box,” Nyaga shook her head, “Their graves will have to be deep already. We won’t have time to remove from digging to handle that.”

“Would require too much looking too,” Medic added, “Coffins aren’t cheap and a cheap box might as well…might as well not be there. It won’t do what coffins are meant to.”

“Don’t see why we can’t at least try,” Lucy muttered.

“You all aren’t seeing what I’m seeing,” Shelly interrupted, “We could just not do that.”

“Shelly, we have to bury them,” Medic waved a hand dismissively.

“They deserve that much,” Lucy whimpered, pulling her knees to her chest.

John frowned, thinking back. Lucy probably felt as bad as he did about not having Sofia’s body to bury. Their Sniper deserved that much for her bravery and dedication to the team.

“I’m saying that you’re all skipping a different picture!” Shelly raised her voice a bit, as if to sound a bit stronger.

“What are we missing?” the Medic gave the Engineer a tired look.

“I’m going to bed,” Lucy got to her feet.

“Now hold up!” Shelly held up her hands to silence everybody. She paused, making sure that everybody was quiet and listening to her words. “I was as ready as anybody else to disregard the craziness of…what John had told them,” Shelly explained slowly, “But think for just a moment.”

“There’s nothing to think about there,” Nyaga argued.

“They’re dead, Shelly,” Lucy said, her voice weaker than it had been, “Just let it go.”

“Actually think about it!” Shelly demanded a bit louder.

“Are you insinuating we use the model of a fictional horror story of a monster and reanimate our dead teammates?” the Medic demanded, furrowing their brow a bit.

“Frankenstein,” Nyaga said.

“What?” Medic’s head swiveled around to look at the Heavy.

“You’re thinking of Frankenstein’s monster,” Nyaga offered, with a calm gesture.

“Right! That!” Medic nodded pointedly.

Shelly hesitated a moment, thoughts swirling behind her eyes. He could only imagine what she could come up with. The woman was a genius in her own right.

“The idea is preposterous, Shelly,” Medic’s voice was not cold or mean, it was tired and reserved, “We can’t do that. Not to Yukina. Not to Adaliz.”

“I’m not suggesting Frankenstein,” Shelly explained, slowly.

“I’ll see you all in the morning,” Lucy let out a yawn, “I’m going to bed.”

“Respawn brings us back with nothing!” Shelly raised her voice even louder.

Everybody stopped. Everybody listened. Everybody had to listen to the woman.

“Respawn? We don’t have that,” Medic sounded a little angry with Shelly.

“Respawn is just a machine powered by australium,” Shelly said. There was something in his voice, something that tipped towards madness, but held a lot of passion. “Respawn is just a bunch of cogs and wires and metal! But respawn…that thing? That machines?! It brings us back! Every time with certainty it does!”

“We’re not on respawn anymore!” it was the Medic’s turn to raise their voice.

“Are they really doing this?” Lucy asked John quietly.

He shrugged, but he was not dissuaded. In fact, he was rather intrigued by the conversation. The passion in Shelly’s voice. The mention of the respawn’s workings.

He remembered she had told him where she used to work. It was no secret that Shelly worked there longer than most of them. Shelly had been there before women were hired as mercenaries. Shelly had been a worker in respawn production and repair. Shelly was always the one who would check on respawn if ever there was a slight suspicion of a problem. Shelly was the one they could rely on to tell them that respawn was always working properly. Shelly was the genius whose mind provided the fact that respawn would never let them down, not until Mann Co chose to shut it down.

“We don’t have australium,” the Medic seemed more nervous than they should have been at that, “We don’t have access to the resources we would need to power it, even if you could build it. Besides that is the necessary scans.”

“I’m not saying we build a respawn machine,” Shelly replied.

“Then what?!” the Medic demanded with exasperation.

“I’m saying we apply the _concepts_ that made the respawn machine work so well. We apply those to bringing them back,” Shelly explained, “After all, the machine did it with nothing but molecules. Our bodies would be left around the battlefield.”

“I always wondered how that worked,” Lucy commented off-handedly.

“Out of thin air in a sense,” Shelly added, a proud grin growing across her face.

Medic was not amused. They were not going to partake in this line of thinking either. They took a small step back, moving away from Shelly, as if to distance themselves. It was the first time John had ever seen the two in such disagreement with each other on something.

“Well we can’t do that,” Medic responded, “We aren’t a respawn machine. We don’t have access to australium. And we don’t have the capacity to reanimate things with whatever molecules.”

“Yes we do,” Nyaga slowly got to her feet, towering over the other two women.

Medic turned, their face turning a bit red, “What now?”

“We have access to australium,” Nyaga said.

“Wait…what?” Lucy sounded astounded but intrigued in the argument all of a sudden, “We do? Since when?!”

Medic cringed, “N-no. Not like that! That wouldn’t help! That couldn’t help!”

“It’s not pure,” Nyaga looked to Shelly, “Could you work with australium that has severe impurities?”

“M-maybe,” Shelly stammered, seemingly half sure of what the Heavy was suggesting. She turned her attention back to the Medic. “Think about it doc,” Shelly insisted, “We have their bodies still. And where do you think the respawn concept came from? You think an Engineer one day came up with all of the respawn himself and it suddenly worked like a dream? That’s where ingenuity came from.”

“Shelly, you’re asking me to experiment on the people we care about,” Medic turned back to the Engineer, “Even if it could possibly work…why would you do that? Why wouldn’t you honor them with burial?”

“Because. We. Love. Them!” Shelly roared angrily.

The room was quiet. It was not tension. Rather it was this dense feeling of pain and anguish. It made John feel like he was going to crumple to his knees. He wanted to cry, if nothing else. He wanted to go to his room and cry.

“If anybody should be brought back… _deserves_ to be brought back…it’s them!” Shelly went on, “And wouldn’t you know it? We have _at least_ two geniuses in the room.” There was such confidence in the way Shelly boisterously said that.

“I would say at least one of them is looney at this point,” Lucy put in, “Making the whole _genius_ thing irrelevant.”

Shelly frowned at Lucy, then looked back to the Medic, “Medic…you’ve done a shit ton for this team…for the _sake_ of this team. Wouldn’t you do another thing for the sake of this team?”

There was silence after that. Was everybody waiting with bated breath? John looked around at the others curiously. They all seemed to be breathing anyways. His breath was held though, as he waited to hear more.

“We can’t just…willy nilly…throw them together and hope they come back to us,” the Medic shrugged, despair apparent in their overall mood, “I may be in shock and grieving, but I’m not so foolish.”

With that, Shelly stormed from the room. She pushed past Lucy and John, forcing her way out of the door. That angry exit must have been the finish. He shared a look with Lucy, and they both quietly made their way out and down the hallway to their own sleeping arrangements.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is actually going to be much longer than my other stories. What needs to happen needs at least ten more chapters.
> 
> Strap in we're going for the long ride!


	42. Blood Can Fix It

Lucy and John made an escape, but Nyaga lingered behind. In part she regretted her self-appointed place watching over the Medic. Even so, it _was_ self-appointed, so she could not complain too much.

The Medic seemed a bit distraught and was already rounding on her. She stayed calm and waited as the rant of Japanese mixing with some English came out of Ash’s lungs. They were breathing heavily and tiredly when they finally stopped.

“Are you done, doctor?” the Heavy folded her arms over her chest because she had a few choice words for them too.

“ _No_ , I’m not done!” they stomped their foot childishly.

Nyaga took a deep breath, “Then get to the heart of this problem.”

“Just because there’s australium there doesn’t mean you can use it!” the doctor said, their hair becoming messy again as they gestured wildly. They seemed to be in quite a frenzy. It was a look that was usually spared for the infirmary when a lot was going on at once.

“It’s mine,” Nyaga protested, “I’ll do what I want with it.”

“Nyaga,” the Medic took a deep breath, putting their hands together, “The amount of blood in the human body is meant to be at a minimal level. Anything above that is fatal. Considering it’s less than half a percent normally, the amount required just to cycle a test sample from your system would be the equivalent of you bleeding to death. It would be literally bleeding you to death.”

“If I choose to risk it, it is my choice,” Nyaga said, with a dismissive shrug. Not that she wanted to volunteer for bleeding to death, but it did get on her nerves that the doctor was defensive of it, as if they owned that blood.

“I’m not losing another!” the Medic’s voice grew shrill as they got up on their tip toes.

“You won’t have to,” Shelly came in quite silently. She pushed the untouched and abandoned food out of the way and threw blueprints out onto the table.

“What is this?” Nyaga asked.

“Is that…respawn blueprints?” Ash’s eyes went wide with amazement and disbelief.

“Yes, I know,” Shelly growled, “I don’t share them because of Spies. But here…look…” She pointed to some parts, bringing the Medic’s attention to it. Nyaga had no idea what it was about, so she stayed out of it, watching from a distance.

“This thing…this is too big!” Ash exclaimed.

“That’s why we put them under ground,” the Engineer explained, “You never know they’re there. But…this one…we don’t need to build one.”

“Not building it means your plan doesn’t work, _Shelly_ ,” the Medic replied haughtily.

“Well _Ash_ , we’re not trying to create a reusable respawn, we’re trying to respawn two people _once_ ,” the Engineer retorted tartly.

It was rare for them to fuss like this. It was a little amusing though. The two heads so often agreed that when they clashed, it was like watching a comedy parodying them.

“Where will you get the australium?” Nyaga asked Shelly, hoping to push the conversation forward.

Shelly shifted awkwardly, her shoulders shifting, “It’s a long shot, but I reckon it would be found on a base.”

“Shelly, we can’t waltz onto any of those bases! Mann Co will be after us!” the Medic insisted, throwing their hands into the air.

“Yea well, it’s not like we need a lot,” the Engineer offered.

“Then we won’t go to base,” Nyaga raised a hand to stop this train of thought.

“Where do _you_ reckon we get it?” the Engineer turned to Nyaga.

“Can you use it if it is watered down?” Nyaga asked.

“Heavy don’t!” Ash spat, looking up to Nyaga with heat behind their eyes.

“I suppose,” the Engineer shrugged, “By my calculations, respawning a person once doesn’t take a whole lot of australium. If it were watered down, we would just need to distill it.”

“That’s not acceptable!” the Medic argued, “I will not participate in this!”

“Do not be so argumentative, doctor,” Nyaga replied, folding her arms under her breasts, “This is my body isn’t it? This is something I want to do.”

Shelly’s face turned a bit red, “Oh! Your…your blood…” Her voice grew weak as she spoke of it.

“Yes,” Nyaga nodded, “And if we use just enough of it, can you respawn our friends?”

“Only…” Shelly paused to look at the Medic, “Only if I have doc’s help. It’s not like it’ll work like a respawn machine, it’ll take the doc’s touch in regards to their bodies.”

The Medic rolled their eyes, “I can’t participate in this!”

“Yes you can,” Nyaga insisted, “Doctor, you made me stronger. You kept Yukina happy. You made Lucy healthier. You made John the man he wanted to be. You can make Adaliz and Yuki whole again.”

The doctor frowned up at her. Their worried blue eyes stared at her for a minute, before they looked to Shelly. The Engineer gave them a shrug, an insistence that it was up to the doctor to agree to this.

Finally, they shook their head, “It doesn’t make sense. How would you respawn them?”

“They would not respawn,” Shelly offered, “Rather, we’re going to rejuvenate their bodies.”

“So Frankenstein concept?” the Medic asked.

“Well, it’s the best we’ve got, isn’t it? It’s not like there’s a friendly wizard walking around here, with a reanimation spell or whatever,” Shelly gestured with her hands a bit to show her exasperation.

“And what about their wounds?” the Medic asked, “Dead tissue doesn’t heal, Shelly.”

“Doc listen,” Shelly raised a hand, “I know this seems hard, but I have faith that we can do it. If we can’t…well…we tried. If we don’t, then nothing comes of it…ever.”

“That’s the way it should be,” the doctor nodded at the latter.

“Not acceptable,” Nyaga shook her head.

“What? You want me to try and reanimate some corpses? You want me to…to sew them up? What? Maybe put new working organs in their bodies, use some adrenaline shots and filter their blood systems to get their bodies working and healing? What do you want me to do? You want me to just piece them together and use the medigun make the organic tissue function? Have a fucking syringe ready why don’t you? How about invent a syrum that rejuvenates lost flesh too?”

Nyaga blinked with confusion. They were still asking more questions, but it did not seem like they were questions anymore. In fact, they were not directed at anybody. The whole rant trailed off into Japanese as it became thoughtfulness and wonder.

“I don’t know about you, but that sounds like just what we need,” Shelly started nodding.

“So…so…” the Medic was nodding as they thought about it, “Follow me please.” Medic moved at a clip walk out the door.

Shelly dove for her blue prints and hobbled after them. Nyaga trailed slowly behind, not wanting to rush the Engineer who would otherwise get left behind. The redhead hobbled along with her prosthetic clicking against the floors, having left behind her boot.

They made their way downstairs to the infirmary. The three of them gathered as the Medic pulled aside a blanket to have a look at Adaliz’s body. After being dead awhile it had become more apparent that she was indeed not alive and not sleeping. Nyaga took a deep breath and wished away the pain Adaliz might have felt during death.

“Certain organs may be restored, but others will need to be replaced,” the doctor was looking at the wound, “Definitely the heart and lungs have been damaged. Might need the pancreas replaced as well. I’ll have to start looking for the shrapnel to be sure. The blood has already started coagulating so I’m not sure we can use it. I’m not sure where we would get a fresh supply either.”

“We have damn near enough mercenaries around for it,” Shelly interrupted.

“Then there’s the brain,” the Medic tapped Adaliz’s head with a pen as they thought about it.

“I’ve got these for that,” Shelly raised her blueprints, “An electrotherapeutic shock may activate certain parts of the brain. Use a bit of australium and it’ll get the neurons going again.”

“Australium is not a magic conductor of life, you know,” the Medic argued.

“I’m aware of that,” the Engineer replied, “But not a lot you can do without it.”

The Medic sighed, “We’ll have to find enough volunteers for this. Too much blood pulled from a body can put them at a serious risk.”

“We already got ours,” Shelly shrugged, “Lucy and John will be on board no doubt.”

“There will be plenty,” Nyaga said, “For now…” She paused, looking at the closed eyes on Adaliz’s face. If they were successful, those eyes would someday open again of their own accord. “You two should get rest. Then tomorrow, begin project.”

“This is going to be a big project,” the Medic argued, “We have to plan everything out first! We have to set everything to right!”

“In the morning,” Nyaga insisted, raising a hand to stop them from going any further, “You and Engineer will work on blueprints. John, Lucy and I will gather volunteers.”

There was a long silence. The other two were looking around, almost as if they were lost for a minute. Finally, there was a unanimous intake of breath.

“Do you really think we can do this?” Ash asked.

“Sure we can,” Shelly offered them a confident smile.

 

Nyaga made sure to usher them off to bed. Who knew what they would do if they were left to their own devices downstairs. They probably would not go to bed and get sleep.

Once they were off to bed, she went to find Lucy and John. She was surprised they were not in the rooms they were supposed to be sleeping in. She found them downstairs instead, lounging about and drinking.

“Could you possibly stop drinking?” Nyaga requested.

“What’s crawled up your bum?” John asked, smiling like a drunken idiot.

“The doctor needs blood,” Nyaga took the beer out of his hand and set it aside. She would abstain from alcohol most of all. Nobody’s blood was as important for this than her own.

“Did they go off and become a vampire?” Lucy laughed.

“No,” Nyaga proceeded to take the beer from Lucy, which was a bit more of a challenge, “Doctor needs blood for a procedure.”

“What?!” John exclaimed.

“Is Medic alright?” Lucy asked, with concern.

“Medic is fine,” Nyaga nodded, “You two need to get some sleep. We need to recruit volunteers in the morning.”

“Everybody’s going to be bleeding drunk or hung over,” John argued.

“It wouldn’t be _safe_ for them to donate blood,” Lucy nodded.

“We’ll get them sober,” Nyaga set aside the beers and started off through the building, following the sounds of drunken card games.

“How are we going to get them sober?” John asked, following along behind her.

“It’s not like coffee creates miracles,” Lucy added.

“We’ll get them sober,” Nyaga insisted.

She was quiet as they entered what was made into a recreational room. Almost all of the mercenaries were here. Nearly all of them were drinking.

She tried to speak to them, but the noise was too loud. She tried shouting but they did not hear her. She tried making herself even louder than them, but her words were drowned out.

She barely even heard Lucy speaking to her. She was not even sure how it was possible that they had all gotten this drunk. She was thinking about breaking their table in half to get their attentions.

Her own attention came back to John as he nudged her arm, “Let’s just go. We’ll talk to them in the morning.”

“Let them have their fun for tonight,” Lucy added in agreement, “We can ask them to lay off the booze after.”

Nyaga glanced between the two of them for a moment before nodding. They were right, and besides that, she needed sleep. They might as well wait until the mercenaries were sobering up to ask them to be sobered up.

She ushered the other two up the stairs. Whatever happened tomorrow would be up to their efforts. That meant that they would need to be awake and sober.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And you guys were doubting.


	43. Engineering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shelly has a lot of work ahead of her.

The little time spent asleep was like a blink of the eyes. Shelly could hardly _believe_ that she even slept. She pulled herself out of bed with a tired grunt. She reached for her prosthetic and begrudgingly pulled it on.

Just as she could grit her teeth and smile through the pain of walking, she could grit her teeth and smile through the grief. She could pull this off and keep moving forward with hope, no matter how thin the hairs she was holding onto.

At least she could ponder the day’s successes, while she got her clothes on. She would be putting something together to bring Adaliz and Yukina back. With the doctor on her side, they would surely succeed. It probably took Nyaga’s pressuring, and this would all require the Heavy’s continued cooperation. She hoped that Ash did not dissuade her from continuing to help with this.

After pulling on her prosthetic, she sighed in a tired manner. This old prosthetic needed an upgrade last year. Why she never did it was beyond her. Now she did not have the downtime to just sit down and do it. She just always put off making it better by focusing on other projects instead.

Shame it was that she did not do it earlier. She was so busy wrapped up in recreational projects, like that satellite she wanted to launch with Alan’s help, that she did not pay attention to what needed to get done. She wondered how much she would have noticed sooner if she had not been wrapped up in that bullshit work.

Now she had a big priority in front of herself. She needed to get herself out the door and down to the infirmary to see how she was going to get started. She needed to put this together in a manner that it would use a minimal amount of australium to bring back a human being. That had to be doubled so that it would bring back two human beings.

She got up onto her feet and took a breath. She closed her eyes, focusing on her breathing. Just breathe, she told herself. She just needed to keep breathing and she could get through this day.

She pulled on an outfit for the day and hobbled out the door. Her leg was feeling especially sore today, reminding her of how much she hated being on a prosthetic. It reminded her of how much she wanted to just lop off what was left of the damn leg.

She took a deep breath. This would be fine. Everything was going to be fine.

She stepped into the hallway and tried to focus on her breathing. Of course she had to focus on her steps. Why it was so much more difficult today than the day before, well that was just the way it was. There was never any rhyme or reason to it. She just had to deal with the constant struggle of this fake appendage.

She stopped abruptly before she could almost run into a Soldier. She had not been paying attention to where she was going. Just breathe and step. She had to breathe and step. That was all she could focus on for the time being. What more could she do?

The man turned around, curious as to who was behind him. She gave him a nod in greeting as she hobbled around him. He did not seem to notice her struggling, and she preferred it that way. He turned his attention back to the Scout he was talking to. She ignored the buzz of their conversation, as she counted each footstep in its awkward rhythm, along with the breaths her lungs asked for.

She felt so tired that she wanted to go to bed, by the time she reached the infirmary. She was too tired to walk all the way back now, so she stepped inside. The brightness of the lights and the whiteness of the room hit her too fast.

This place was definitely paid attention to the most. They had put up a lot of white plastic to guard against…well, she could only guess that it was meant to guard against infectious diseases going in and out. Surely some of it was to prevent blood and other bodily fluids from being a problem to clean up.

“Are you ready to get started, Shelly?” Ash’s familiar voice hit their ears.

Unable to avoid them, she lifted her head and gave a smile. She only hoped they did not realize how tired their eyes already were, when the day had only just started. She shifted the bundle of blueprints she had brought with her under her arm. She was so glad she remembered all of them, just in case.

“Good, I’ve set up a table for us to work on,” they beckoned her out of the infirmary. That made her groan, as she had to hobble to try and keep up. “Too big to fit in the infirmary at the moment,” they explained, leading her to an old wooden table. It was probably previously used for eating on by the others, but it was now adorned with the same white plastic as the infirmary. “Just set the blueprints out and we can get started.”

Shelly did not say much, she just started laying out the papers. Busying her hands helped a lot. It helped her forget. It helped her to not focus on what was bad. It helped her to not think about whatever was bothering her.

She situated herself on the bench with a relieved sigh. She needed to get her weight off of that leg. Of course, it did not help that there was so much weight to put on it. That was something she had tried to work on, but had just quit trying to fix.

“So, are we working from scratch here? Or do you have something compact in mind?” the doctor asked, interrupting her thoughts.

Shelly smiled at them again and directed their attention to one of the blueprints. She described what she would need to make a small machine. It would take a certain shape and a certain volume of metal. It could be no more and no less. Their weights and approximations had to be perfect to help make a human function again.

When she finished, Medic did not look convinced. They were probably just humoring her at this point. It was probably in part to humor Nyaga. No telling if the two had talked after the whole confrontation or not.

It was no secret that the Medic and the Heavy had this unspoken bond. Shelly knew the doc longer than either of them knew Nyaga, yet somehow the two were closer. Nyaga was almost always around the doctor. Even if she was nowhere to be seen, she could always be found. She just seemed to lurk nearby.

It was like the two just sort of clicked. In Shelly’s mind, it was almost like one of them had a crush. It was love at first sight, but one loving the other as a teacher loves a pupil, or perhaps how a leader loves their followers. The other side being a completely stricken sense of adoration for everything that person is and stands for.

That never seemed quite the perfect explanation to Shelly. Nyaga seemed like the loving type at first. She was loving and accepting of everybody. She almost seemed like the mother type, a woman who belonged at home with somebody to hug her and tell her she was okay.

Being around Ash only seemed to harden her into a steel hard machine of power. Granted, that was in part because of the doctor’s work on her physique. Medic had taken great care in helping Nyaga fit her position the way she wanted to. That still did not explain it.

Nyaga was as loyal as a dog could be. She was always on the doctor’s side of things, or at least she usually was. Anybody who threatened Medic would get an iron hard fist to the jaw.

That did not explain the cold and distant behavior. The quiet demeanor that spoke of a woman who wanted nothing to do with people emotionally anymore. Medic was the type to deal with people’s emotions, while Nyaga was the type to deal with their aggression.

The two made sense as a team on the battlefield. Nyaga watched out for Medic’s wellbeing, given she was taller but not broad enough to provide physical protection when they came under fire. Medic also watched out for the Heavy, keeping her health at a good high rate while watching for others on the field. The two were a great rescue team as well, moving to pick up and save other teammates, while protecting each other.

Perhaps it was just a matter of overthinking things. Perhaps Shelly just wanted to think too deeply into something as close as good friends could be. The two were so different, one quick to talk with intelligent wit, and the other quiet and almost brooding. They could have been two poles on the world’s ends.

“This isn’t going to-” Shelly cut herself off, thinking about everything she had said so far. Magnetic power had been something she had not taken into account. The mere magnetic power the Earth had was enough to power things, but making their own magnetic source would change things altogether. “I am way over thinking this,” Shelly pushed the papers aside and grabbed a fresh paper. She snatched up a pencil and began sketching, with Ash watching her work.

 

She was not sure how long they had been discussing, rearranging and erasing this drawing. They certainly must have been at it for hours. Nyaga, Lucy and Smith approached them looking like they were befuddled at the mess of papers on the table.

Ash pulled away their glasses and rubbed their eyes. This must have been stressful for them. All of this work they were doing in paper would decide the success or failure of their friends ever living again.

“Have either of you eaten?” Lucy asked, eyeing them each with worry.

“I don’t think they have,” Nyaga answered for her.

“We’ve been a mite busy,” Shelly offered up an apologetic smile. Truth be told, she was definitely getting hungry.

“We brought sandwiches!” John was smiling warmly, with a plate stacked high with diagonally cut sandwiches as promised.

“I could go for a couple of those,” Shelly said, with a tone full of gratitude.

Much to her dismay, John set the platter right on their paperwork. The two of them, having worked on all of this for hours and hours, disgruntledly motioned for him to take the sandwiches away from the table. When he complied, the two of them quickly gathered the papers to one end, while Lucy and Nyaga found seats at the table.

Shelly looked around at the five of them. What a pathetic number for a team of mercenaries. They used to be nine fighters. What happened to them?

“I call dibs on the ones with mustard!” John declared, as he took a seat next to Lucy, squishing her between himself and Ash.

“They all have mustard,” Lucy shot John a leery look.

“Either way, I’m grateful you brought them,” Shelly insisted.

She felt a bit awkward for a moment. She was not usually seated by Nyaga. Nyaga usually sought an obvious spot next to Ash, squishing the medical professional between herself and Shelly. Perhaps she just missed the part where Lucy claimed her seat first.

“So…you’re working on a machine that’ll bring them back?” Lucy leaned over and reached for the papers.

Shelly quickly swatted her hand away, “Don’t touch those with grubby hands!”

“Sorry,” Lucy shrugged it off.

“We’ve been gathering volunteers!” John announced, just as excited as he was about the sandwiches.

“Yes? For what?” Shelly inquired, as she grabbed a half of a sandwich.

“Blood donors,” Lucy explained, “We’ve managed to grab up a roster of twelve. It’s not many, but it’s a start.”

“It’s an impressive start,” Ash commented, reaching for a sandwich.

“Thanks, doc,” Lucy smiled.

“We’ll need more than twelve,” Nyaga commented with a heavy sigh.

“Yes,” Dr. Ash admitted reluctantly, “Unfortunately that’s true, given the congealed nature of the blood in their bodies.”

“How many for just one?” Shelly asked, before sinking her teeth into the sandwich. She kind of regretted it, finding that it was absolutely soaked in mustard.

“Well,” Ash hesitated, thrumming their fingers against the table.

A sandwich sat in the other hand, just waiting to be eaten. The presence of their thoughts brought attention from the entire table. Every other person was watching them think, waiting for their answer.

“More…more than we have here,” the doctor admitted, “Honestly, I’m not sure we can pull off bringing back one of them with every mercenary here pitching in a pint of blood.”

“What about two pints?” Lucy offered.

“Or three?” John added.

“No no,” Ash protested, “Taking too much blood from anybody can create huge problems for them. We don’t need a mass of weakened mercenaries to try to bring back a dead one.”

“This is Adaliz and Yukina we’re talking about!” Lucy exclaimed.

Nyaga slammed a fist into the table, which managed to startle everybody, “We _will_ find a way!”

There was a long silence, where nobody else dared to speak. Nyaga seemed like she was waiting for it. Maybe a witty retort. Perhaps a bit of a challenge. She seemed stern and possibly angry enough that nobody really wanted to take up the chance to do that.

Finally, it was the Medic who spoke, much to Shelly’s relief. “We’re going to do everything that we can with what we have,” Ash insisted, “We can only do what we have to work with. We can do no more.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s a given, doc,” Lucy piped up.

“Well, that doesn’t seem to be too clear,” Ash said, a little snidely. Shelly began to wonder where they were getting this frustration from, given how willingly they had been working with Shelly. “We make do with the resources we have,” Ash explained, “And that might mean we do not bring back Adaliz _or_ Yukina.”

Silence followed. Everyone just started pretending that the over saturated mustard sandwiches were too good not to have their mouths full of it. Shelly certainly did, taking bigger bites than necessary so that she could not speak.

The sandwiches were almost finished, all too soon. They had eaten so fast that the plate was almost finished off. The Medic seemed to be finished though, as they brushed their fingers clean.

“It’s a bit much to ask so much of somebody,” they said, “You don’t go asking miracles of people. That would be preposterous. And with limited resources? You would be out of your mind to demand something so improbable.”

“You didn’t say it was impossible,” John piped up, having forgotten the anger in his teammates before, as well as the mustard smeared across his face like peanutbutter.

“Sure John,” Ash rose from the seat and stretched, “Sure, it’s not impossible. But improbability only rises with the fewer resources. We _are_ limited, you know.”

“Why do you have to be so down about this?” Lucy asked.

“How do you think you can overcome the improbable if you keep talking like it is impossible?” Nyaga asked.

The Medic gave them each a glare to put them in their places, “When somebody quits running, it is for two reasons. Either they cannot psychologically do it, or they cannot physically do it. This time it’s not the psychological one, so keep your psychological textbook lingo in the books.”

The Medic turned and headed off. Shelly could only assume that they were going to go wash up. They probably needed to use the restroom too.

“Since when do you open textbooks?” Lucy whispered, leaning over the table to get closer to Nyaga.

“I don’t,” Nyaga replied, looking down at her half eaten sandwich, “Medic says a lot of things.”

Oh, Shelly thought. It was a parroting moment. Nyaga thought she could break through to the Medic on this by repeating something they had said before. True it was a good plan and it was properly placed.

Shelly figured that the post graduate medical professional was well rehearsed in these things though. They had all heard them say these psychological lines, things that belonged in textbooks. It was often a bunch of textbook drabble, yet Ash managed to apply it to the real life and the real world.

“Anybody else want those sandwiches?” John gestured to the last two halves on the plate.

“Nuh uh,” Lucy shook her head and leaned back.

“No thank you,” Nyaga sighed.

“Not me, boy,” Shelly patted her belly, “I’ve had my fill.”

The man happily grabbed both sandwiches and started stuffing his face. Shelly’s eyes became drawn to the papers nearby. Much to her dismay, they had all forgotten why the papers had been shuffled aside. Now there were flecks of gross yellow mustard on some of them.

“You don’t think that Medic’s gonna quit, do you?” John asked, his mouth full of sandwich.

Shelly sighed and shook her head. While they seemed rather stressed about it, they seemed rather happy to work on this project. Up until this luncheon, everything seemed to have been going well. In fact, Shelly would not have noticed before that anything had been going wrong in the relations between the Heavy and the Medic.

“I hope they don’t,” Nyaga said, in almost a scornful manner.

“They’re just stressed,” Shelly insisted.

“That’s no excuse for backing out on friends,” Nyaga immediately retorted.

“You shouldn’t push them so hard,” Lucy offered, hoping to calm Nyaga’s irritation.

Shelly took a deep breath, “It’s my fault. I’m the one who asked about numbers.”

“Isn’t it you who always says that numbers don’t lie?” Lucy asked.

“Sure is,” Shelly nodded. She knew she was the one who most often used numbers of anybody on the team.

“Then…it’s not your fault,” Lucy put in, “You were just asking a simple question.”

“Yea sure,” Shelly shrugged, “But this was supposed to be a light social situation. Lunch should not be talk about work involving dead friends.”

“I’m still pissed about leaving Sofia behind,” Lucy argued, “You don’t see me actually being pissy about it.”

“I think some of us would argue otherwise,” John teased.

“Shut up,” Lucy punched his shoulder.

He did not seem to mind. He kept on eating his sandwiches, with a happy look on his face. That made Shelly wonder if perhaps the two had grown closer in the past few days. Losing Sofia must have been hard on Lucy, after all. She did not even know how John tended to cope with things.

“Look,” Shelly wiped her hands clean on her overalls, “I’m gonna get back to work on these plans. Ya’ll keep out of the way and we’ll try to make this work. Oh, and um…keep up the good work.”

Lucy smiled along with John and the two of them seemed to take the dismissal. They scurried along, hurrying along their way, one holding two half eaten sandwiches and the other holding a dirty plate. Nyaga was the last to rise from her seat.

“I am very concerned,” Nyaga stated.

“Why is that?” Shelly asked, leaning over to grab some of the papers.

“I usually know and understand what the doctor is doing,” Nyaga explained.

“Sure,” Shelly nodded, figuring the two were often in sync that way.

“Medic does things with a reason,” Nyaga explained.

“Always did and still does,” Shelly nodded in agreement.

“Well, this time I don’t know if they will find reason to keep working on this project,” she finished, with a resounding sigh.

Shelly looked up at her with a frown, “Look, you leave this project to me. I’ll keep it moving forward. Doc and I will handle this. Don’t you worry. You just handle the other three.”

“I understand the way,” Nyaga closed her eyes and dipped her head mournfully, “This project is going to hurt.”

“You more than any of us,” Shelly replied gravely.

“Why doesn’t doc understand how much I’m willing to give for this?” Nyaga opened her eyes, giving Shelly a pleading look.

Oh boy, those were some very sad eyes, “I think…I um…I think they just don’t want everybody getting their hopes up and hurting more people in the process of possible failure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this one took me a long time. Not because the chapter was difficult, but I have so many other stories I want to write. I want to write them all at the same time. They tend to shuffle each other around. Glad I finished this chapter. I'm thinking this story will be just a few more chapters.


	44. Sniper's Action

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jules decides he does not want to just sit around doing nothing.

It was possibly the most unpleasant gathering Julian had seen of this crew. Scout sat with his legs stretched out before him, his eyes gazing listlessly into the fire. Heavy was slumped over on the pile of wood he had dragged closer, looking dejected. Pyro was hugging their legs to their chest, looking like they were possibly crying under that mask. Demoman was absolutely wasted, looking like he had drank the entire base’s fill of whiskey, as he laid slumped across a pile of wood. Engineer sat with his head leaned against one hand, looking down at his lap with an expression that could only be an unhealthy balance of pain and guilt.

All of them knew his guilt now. None of them felt guilty about it, but they sure as hell wished they could take it back for their more effeminate teammates. The whole lot of them were acting pathetically about it. None of them could even pick themselves and be men about this whole situation.

Problem was that Jules knew the feeling. He could not help but feel just as dejected, guilty and sad as they did. Guilty because they fled the scene, leaving behind several bodies, that none of them were really sure were dead before they got into the trucks that came for them. Pain settled in knowing they would never see their teammates again. Just thinking about the Medic and Sofia the Sniper brought pain to his chest. He was not close to Medic, but there was some sort of connection that a man held to his comrades that he was sure the Medic would have felt for him. Sofia’s death was even worse, she was an amazing shot, an amazing person, and a kind woman.

Upon thinking about her, he took his hat off. No longer caring, he let it drop to the ground by his boots. He rubbed his eyes, covering for the possibility that tears might fill them.

He sighed and looked at the fire. He did not remember who started this campfire. He did not remember why they even gathered around here. They just all sort of magnetically became attracted to this campfire, as if they could not stand the company of the other teams.

The only man who had not already been here finally approached. John Doe stomped towards them and took only a few moments to survey the circle of a dejected team. He looked disappointed in his team, which was a given since Doe had gone off to make friends with mercenaries from around the base. Then again, the man typically had either a snarl or a smile, so it was hard to tell when it was just a feeling in between those.

“You are not men!” the Soldier growled loudly.

“Not now, Soldier,” the Engineer groaned.

“Please, leave in peace,” the Heavy pleaded, but he did not raise his head.

“We’re trying to sit in solitude,” Jules added.

“You are all mamby pamby babies!” the Soldier spat.

“Trying to process over here,” Scout raised his voice.

Demoman tried to say something, but it came out as indiscernible moaning and groaning. There was no telling what exactly he was trying to say, but everybody took it to mean something along the same lines of what Scout had said. Nobody bothered him to clarify it anyways.

“You are all sitting here like lazy louts! Meanwhile, the women are taking charge! What is wrong with you?!” the Soldier growled.

“I think that Soldier and Medic would appreciate it if you didn’t loop them in as women,” the Engineer raised his head to look at the Soldier.

“You’re just lazy!” the Soldier shook his head.

“Nobody here is holding you back from doing whatever,” Scout retorted, “Just leave us be, man!”

Jules looked at his feet. The others had somehow whipped right out of this feeling of grief and were getting to work on some sort of miracle. Thing was that there was no cure for death.

“You are all lazy cowards!” the Soldier announced. With a huff of indignation the Soldier stormed off.

“What’s new?” the Engineer groaned, as if the Soldier were still there.

Jules wrung his hands, staring at the ground. It was a miserable sensation to be stuck with nothing to do and everything needing to be done. Right about now, he should have a rifle of some sort in his hands, either aimed at men or aimed at practice targets. With none of that, he was left to his thoughts in the quiet air they were sharing.

A stray spark that jumped towards his boot brought his eyes to the flames. They danced with a sort of fluidity that he wished he had right now. At this moment, he felt so rigid and awkward. He did not feel like he could move like anything natural. If he were to stand, every step would be like a piece of machinery, each movement with cogs and jerky motions.

He glanced over at the Engineer with curiosity. The man had half of his face covered with his hand. He was bent over his knee, looking ashamed and weary at the same time. The goggles dangling around his neck bespoke of a sensation like despair in giving up his work.

Nearby, the Pyro’s face was indiscernible. Nobody knew if this Pyro was a man or a woman. Back when they first met, Jules had nightmares that it was just a monster underneath the mask. Its body language was easy to read though. It was feeling the same pain that he was.

He regarded the idea of asking them if they were okay. It might make them feel better to show them that somebody cared that they were hurting. He got his lips halfway parted before he realized that the Pyro’s responses would just be muffled sounds he could not make out. If he asked the Engineer, given the man’s current temperament, he was more likely to get verbally back handed.

He looked at the Demoman laying nearby. He had an arm over his face. He was groaning something incoherent. There was no knowing if he would even understand him if he said anything.

He looked back down at the ground. It was best for everybody if he just stayed quiet. He did not have to talk to anybody, because they did not want to be talked to.

The urge to talk seemed to bubble up like a shaken fizzy drink though. He could hardly contain himself. The sheer need to say something made his foot bounce on the ball.

“Sniper, could you stop that?” the Scout requested of him.

He stopped moving, looking over at the youth. He barely looked at him, but it was a look of annoyance. He returned to his slouched position, looking like he was depressed.

“Thank you,” Heavy rumbled in a low voice.

Jules looked down at his hands and began twiddling his fingers. He did not understand where this energy was coming from. He did not know why he felt this way or what this need was.

He looked at the flames again, though they were slowly dying out. Despite no longer being as boisterous and beautiful, they still caught his attention. He stared at them for a long while, wishing he could just dive into the bright and lively color.

Spy would have been here. Sniper never knew how, but the man’s skill with people made him an easy friend. If Spy were here, he would be asking him if he was okay. If Spy was here…

He suddenly got to his feet. He rose so abruptly that it disturbed several others, who looked at him with questioning gazes. He swallowed his nerves, as he remembered how awkward and mechanic he was feeling.

“I’m going to go check on Spy,” he said, before lumbering off towards the infirmary.

He made his way into the stuffy smelling place with a growing need to turn around and leave. By the time he was standing on the white tarps, his hands were shaking. His feet in his boots felt numb as he came to a halt. His mouth felt dry, so he did not want to speak.

He started to look around, then stopped. He could already see the two beds with covered bodies nearby. He did not need a direct look at the faces. He was not bothered by gore, given his profession. It was the whom of what lay on those beds.

“Oh! Hello, Sniper,” the Medic’s voice greeted him.

He turned as they entered behind him. They looked rather chipper for somebody who was dealing with dead people. Then again, they were likely more in tune with the concept of dealing with not only injuries but dead bodies than most mercenaries. Medics were the ones who had to dress the wounds and deal with the dead ones.

He tried to muster up the strength to say something. He wanted to say, “hey doc” but those words just escaped him like they were not meant to be said. Perhaps it was how dry his mouth was. He would not admit any fear of being here though. That might give the impression that he was afraid of the Medic. That in itself might upset them.

“You’re here to see Spy, right?” the Medic asked, as if having read his mind before.

He gave a quiet nod. He did not want to say anything anyways. This was a better way to communicate, if they could manage to continue guessing what he wanted them to know.

They gestured for him to continue into the infirmary. Thankfully, they took the lead, not expecting him to just know where to go. It was a very basic layout, but the tarps were in the way of where they were keeping the unconscious Spy.

He took a sharp intake of breath as he looked at his friend. His wounds from the car accident had been healed up by mediguns, but the man was still in a coma. He might as well have been asleep. He certainly looked like he was taking them for a ride with his peaceful expression.

“I’ll leave you two,” the Medic gave him a nod and walked back around the tarp.

Jules gave a nod, though he turned his attention back to Spy. What was he going to do? Why was he here? He certainly did not have much reason to be in here. If anything, he should not be here. Spy would be awake whenever he was fucking ready.

Growling to himself, Jules plopped down on a chair nearby. He felt so frustrated but he did not know what else to do. Nobody wanted to talk to him. Perhaps it was more along the lines of nobody wanting to hear him talk.

Not that he was much of a talker. Talking wore him out, so he tended to keep quiet even when he had something on his mind. Scout was the talker of the team, Sniper was the quiet one who kept to himself.

If anybody was going to listen though, it would be Spy. Sure, the man was in a coma now, but it had to count for something. Spy was the only man that the Sniper knew he could rely on when he was feeling uncomfortable. He was the one who had his back no matter what.

“How are you?” he finally asked, wanting to clear the air with that simple question that nobody else wanted to hear.

The silence that followed meant nothing of course. Still, it felt so stale and wrong. This place smelled of anything but Spy’s element. Even in a coma, he could not be comfortable here.

“Must be pretty exhausting being stuck in here, huh?” he asked.

Again, there was more silence. It hung there for everybody to hear. It probably meant that the doctor on the other side of the tarp could clearly hear him asking questions to an unresponsive man.

He tried not to think about it, “You never did like infirmaries.” He gave a sigh, trying to relax in his seat. He closed his eyes and put a hand on the bed. “It hurts a lot, but you’ll be back soon. I think the team needs you. We’re pretty disorganized and messy. The others…they’re getting on just fine. I can’t say our boys are doing so well though.”

He scooted the seat a bit closer, feeling a bit more comfortable. He put his hand over the lump in the blanket that was Spy’s arm. It made him smile, as he felt the warm body under the cloth.

“You always did look out for us,” he went on, “I don’t think any of us really paid attention to that. We really took it for granted. I know I did.”

He sighed and leaned back in his seat. He stared at the baby blue hued blanket. He wanted to zone out like that for hours.

“Remember how we used to fight a lot?” he chuckled to himself, thinking back on how little he had trusted the Spy at first. They had been at odds for quite some time when they first joined the same team. “You were some son of a bitch,” he chuckled, “But it was alright.”

He paused, trying to think of what else he wanted to say. He did not just want to go on with unimportant drabble. Spy did not want to listen to him moan and mope all of the time. As patient of a man as he could be, even Spy had his limits.

“Ah yea…Engineer has some…answers…for us,” he thought back on how the Engineer had explained it to them all.

He did his best to explain it how he had heard it. He tried to remember word for word how the Engineer put it. He did not want to leave out any details for the Spy. On the off chance that he was hearing this, he needed to know what had happened, and how sorry his teammates were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As soon as I have internet again, I can start posting my chapters again.


	45. Everything is Going to Be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finalizing moments.

Lucy walked alongside John with heavy boots. They had been going around to talk to random mercenaries all damn day. She was dead tired by now. She knew that if she took a seat for a short break, she would never get back up. Despite their usual work being so hard, somehow walking around and talking to people was ten times as exhausting.

“Do you want me to carry you?” John offered.

Lucy shook her head, “No! Why would I want that?”

“You look tired,” John replied, pointedly.

“Yea well…it’s been a long day,” Lucy rubbed her eye with a knuckle, “It’s been pretty stressful too. I don’t see things going too well from here, even if we succeed.”

“You don’t mean that,” John insisted.

“Yes, I do,” Lucy nodded, “I mean it.”

“No!” John chuckled, keeping his positive attitude, “We’re going to get Yukina and Adaliz back! It’ll be fantastic! Sure, things won’t be the same. You cannot expect time to move backwards. That is just not possible. Things do not move backwards in time. We only move forward and into a new challenge! Besides, things are going to change. You’ll see. When Adaliz and Yukina come back, things will at least change. It will be less dreary. We’ll see our coworkers smile again. We’ll all be a happy family again.”

Lucy sighed and shook her head, “It sounds nice.”

“We will!” John suddenly took her hand and squeezed it.

She looked at the hand with momentary bewilderment. She looked up at his smiling face. She could not help but smile back. She wanted to believe in that big goofy smile, everything was going to be okay.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Clovis was stumbling along when somebody in blue grabbed his arm. He instinctively swung and struggled. He was in no state to be fighting though. He was entirely zoned out and could not bring himself back down to reality.

He blinked in bewilderment to find himself looking face to face at the BLU Soldier, the same BLU Soldier he had fought against for years. The man had never shared a lick of kindness before this. He just sort of minded his own damn business, or verbally harassed REDs.

“You’re drunk, son,” the Soldier said, taking his arm around his shoulders.

“I’m not drunk, you’re drunk!” he stammered out. He felt very dizzy, so he did not fight against having a sturdy aid.

“Let’s get you some coffee,” the Soldier said, redirecting him.

“I don’t need coffee! I need scrumpy!” he declared in a slur of words he was not even sure of.

“Sure,” the Soldier merely nodded, pulling him along.

“I think you’re…missing the BLU isn’t my uniform lad!” he tried to say, but he was not sure it all came out correctly.

“Let’s get you to that coffee pot, STAT!” the Soldier said, quickening his pace.

He tried to protest. His feet were just not cooperating. He was pretty sure the left foot was on laxatives and was farting the whole way there. The other felt numb and tried to drag along stupidly. He tried to tell them, to get them moving, but they were not about to budge.

“You might just need bed,” the Soldier gave up on dragging him along to what was apparently a kitchen.

“You think you’re better’n me cause you’re not drunk?” he poked the Soldier in the chest, trying to look him in the eye. That was hard to do when the Soldier had two eyes.

“Let’s get you into a bed,” the Soldier dragged him off. He could not really remember what happened, only that he knew the feeling of a soft pillow and warm blankets. They were good friends.

 

*********************************************************************

 

“You’re going to make it all go haywire, son,” another Engineer chimed in.

“No no! Give it here! I’ll show ya,” said another.

Alan turned to them with a snarl, “Would you lot shut up so I can work?”

“Just tryin’ to help is all,” an Engineer holding a guitar said. He was picking at it as he tuned the strings, mostly minding his own business.

“If you would accept help for once,” the closest said scornfully, “Then you would be done faster!”

“Now look here!” he turned around and shook the wrench in the face of the shorter Engineer, threateningly. He did not care if they were scared, in fact he would prefer it if they were scared. “I ain’t here to be told by nobody how to do my job! So pipe down and let me do my work!”

“Yea, but you’re doing it wrong!” another man protested.

“What are you mongrels arguing about?” a Sniper approached, looking around at them with sharp dangerous eyes. He had a steely look that could cut through a man’s wits, the kind of eyes you expected to be behind a glass scope.

Despite being of the same Australian origins, this man was much more the part of a mercenary than Julian. Alan could tell simply by the way he held himself that he shied from nobody and held his own without a lick of assistance. The man had his respect already, if not by the way he commanded the attention of an entire group of men arguing over how to rig a satellite.

“He’s tryin’ to make a satellite,” the Engineer holding the guitar answered, never pausing with his strings.

The smallest Engineer sidled towards the Sniper, “Need something?” His height by the Sniper made him seem like a dwarf by comparison to the lankier man.

“Any of you have a spare spark plug?” the Sniper asked the whole lot, instead of just addressing the Engineer talking directly to him.

The little Engineer seemed to cringe away. He moved just a little away, as if he realized when he was not wanted. Too bad he so easily shied away. It was men like this Sniper that Alan could see had the true blood and spirt of a mercenary though.

“Got one here,” one of the other Engineer’s answered, holding up the car part.

“Thanks mate,” the Sniper strolled over to take it.

Alan turned his attention back to his project. It was Shelly’s project, once upon a time. To launch a satellite into space. It would be their very own satellite to gain information in the way that they wanted. No Mann Co stood in their way to tell them off anymore.

He only wished he had backed her project sooner. Per Mann Co’s request, he had dissuaded her in every way that he could. He even sabotaged the project, until she gave up, believing that she simply could not get it working right.

It would work right. It would work just fine, once they had it into space. Then he would show Shelly how sorry he was about it all.

It was not as if the woman was giving him the cold shoulder. On the contrary, she had been the warmest person to forgive him yet. He did not imagine before that the woman could be so gentle about something that should be making her furious.

Still, there was something about this project that felt important to him. He needed to finish it and show her what it meant. He had to show her that she was not a screw up in any way. She had to see that what she was doing had been good.

“You should get some help with that,” one of the other Engineers commented.

“Just let me do this, please,” he did not even look at the man, hammering away at the metal sheet he needed for the hull.

 

*********************************************************************

 

When Demyan entered the infirmary, he was not surprised to see the Medic busily working away. They were so small, yet so determined to do all the work of a man bigger than them. It was an admirable fete, watching how they managed to overcome disadvantages in simple ways that most people would not think of.

“Ah! Hello, H- Demyan,” Medic greeted him with a smile.

He gave a grunt and a nod. He was not in his usual mood of polite banter or good-natured talks. He was in a stifled bad mood and there was not really a cure for it. He was just stuck feeling this way.

“Is there something I can help you with?” the Medic asked, with hesitant curiosity.

Demyan paused, then shook his head. He looked down at the ground, feeling a sense of something amiss. It was the doctor he had come to know as a dear friend for some time. He was more than just some ordinary doctor, he was _his_ doctor. Together, they had formed an unstoppable team.

This smaller doctor seemed unfazed, and certainly did not turn away. They moved closer, an ever so slight tilt of the head, and a look that spoke of both pain and curiosity. Their mouth opened, wordless at first as their formulated their question.

“Are you feeling alright?” they asked.

“It is not illness,” Demyan assured them, with a heavy sigh, “Nor is it injury. It is weakness. Heavy is missing doctor. It is hard to say that Medic is gone.”

They gave him a knowing and mournful nod. He watched them, and even gave them a smile. So they understood him and how he felt right now.

They laid a gentle hand on his arm, “We must do all that we can do. For now, that’s moving forward and forging a path along the way.”

Demyan nodded, pausing for a minute. He wondered how many doctors were working for Mann Co. There must have been dozens at least, some on Reliable Excavation and Demolition, and others on Builders League United. Either working for Redmond or Blutarch. Not that that seemed to matter to anybody outside of the mercenaries’ circles though.

Now they were stranded on their own. There was nothing really linking them. In fact, there was nothing really holding back. He had already heard talk from strangers about going out on their lonesome. Those were immediately silenced by discouraging words about the Mann Co policy of man hunting. Demyan was no fool, he would not go out on his own when Mann Co would desperately want him dead.

They probably already wanted him dead at Mann Co headquarters. They were probably planning ways of which to get his blood to spill. Not that they were targeting him alone specifically, the Heavy was not a self-centered man. He was aware that others were in danger too.

Looking back at the men he had met, that was probably the link. They were all scared. They were all alone. All that they had to keep them above high waters were the other men who were scared and alone in this. If they stuck together, they would have better chances of surviving.

“Medic is working on experiment?” he changed the topic to something lighter.

“Yes, well…” their voice trailed off as they looked at the sheet covered beds, “It’s coming along slowly.”

Demyan nodded, “I look forward to seeing your results, doctor.”

They beamed up at him proudly, “I do too!”

 

*********************************************************************

 

The silence was getting on Tanner’s nerves, so he started throwing the ball at the wall. He did not care who he irritated. He was feeling irritated himself.

Every movement felt like it was worthless. Everything that he had done in the past decades felt like utter failure. Everything felt like a wild fire had blazed through the county and ripped out all of their hearts as it ruined everything they had made.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when the ball did not come back to him. He blinked and looked around, searching for his ball. He was surprised to see a Sniper standing there.

The man was dressed in blue, a true Australian Sniper, complete with teeth along the brow band and what looked to be a shiny new rifle. The man was decked out like a badass. Almost like Julian, but a bit better.

“You gettin’ kind of bored, mate?” the Sniper looked at the ball in his hand and then to the Scout.

“Yea, well…ain’t got much to do,” he pulled his knees up, resting his elbows on them.

“I see,” the Sniper looked back at the ball, “Any chance you’ll think of stopping the banging of this here ball?”

“No! I’ll do what I wanna!” Tanner held out his hand, “Now, gimme back my ball!”

“No offense mate,” Sniper turned and threw the ball with a weak arm.

Tanner huffed a sigh and got to his feet. Looked like he would have to fetch it himself. It was just another guy who thought he was annoying. He probably just thought that way of all Scouts.

“I just can’t have you waking Soldier,” the Sniper insisted.

“Soldier?” Tanner scoffed as he made his way to the ball, “In the middle of the day? What? Is he an over grown baby?”

“Not a baby,” the Sniper scratched his chin, “Just a man with a bad back and a sickness he needs to sleep off.”

“Which Soldier is it then?” the Scout chuckled, “Is it that BLU from the base we came from?”

“Nah,” the Sniper shook his head, “It’s Andrew. You met him before, yea?”

Tanner hesitated. He remembered one of the Soldiers had mentioned the name Andrew. If he was right in assuming who it was, then it was that one guy with the cool military tattoos. He was likely the guy who seemed pretty smart and sane for a Soldier.

“You meant that guy with the legit tats?” he asked, “What’s he doing sleeping at an hour like this?”

“Don’t worry about it much,” the Sniper gestured dismissively, “Just try and be supportive of his recovery by not waking him when he needs the sleep.”

Tanner hesitated. He really wanted to fight back on this. It was that little instinctive fight that made him want to retaliate against those who found him annoying or even a waste of space. He knew this was not one of those instances where everybody was just annoyed at him though. For once, it was somebody trying to be considerate of somebody who Tanner figured was really a nice guy.

“Alright,” he nodded, “I’ll be quieter.”

“Maybe take your shenanigans to the other side of the base,” the Sniper pointed, “Farther from the rooms.”

“Y-yea,” Tanner nodded, “You’re probably right. I’ll go.”

“Thanks mate,” the Sniper said, tossing him the ball. He headed off on his way, having ended the conversation on his own terms.

Tanner watched him go, then looked at the ball. He figured he would be playing solo catch somewhere else. It was still solo catch though.

 

*********************************************************************

 

Nonna trembled, curling up in the corner. No more. She could take no more. She could not exit her office again.

She had trapped herself in here after fleeing from the respawn center. She dared not look back or interact with anybody. Even if the man who shared this office came along, she would not open it up. She was going to keep it tightly closed.

She yawned, but she dared not lay down. She felt so tired, her body drained and emotions destroyed. Everything in her body felt wrecked.

Luckily nobody was looking for her at the moment. Nobody had come knocking. Nobody even seemed to know that she was here. Eventually somebody was going to notice the record that she had respawned. That would give them news that she was in the building somewhere, or perhaps in the city nearby.

Having not left, she felt more trapped in a prison than anything. She hugged her knees to her chest, as she tried not to think about what happened. The dry remains of tears left her cheeks feeling harsh and withered. Her eyes were stinging from the hours she had spent crying, red and puffy lids threatening to close from exhaustion through it all.

She could not believe what she had done. Why had she done it? The best answer she could come up with was that she had just been in a car accident and the head trauma took away her reason. Yes, that would do as an excuse.

Still, that did not erase the images in her mind. Those images were ripe and fresh in her mind. The lifeless bodies stared back at him in her memory’s eye, terrorizing her with the reality of her actions and their consequences. She could never take that back. She could never make things right again.

She could go back and _try_ to sort things out. If she knew the others well enough, they might have gone looking for them. She highly doubted they stumbled upon the car in the direction they had gone. Even if they had, they probably would not have suspected _her_ for her actions. She would have been lying dead there. They probably would have assumed that somebody else had come along and shot them down. Probably even pin it on this make-believe person that they had veered off of the road.

It was no use, when she thought about it rationally. The reality was that the consequences stared her in the face, and any attempt to rationalize her way out of those consequences was a major underestimation of her team’s abilities.

The Demoman, Soldier and Heavy would be easy enough to convince of her innocence. It would be the Engineer and the Medic who would cause her problems, being too smart. The Engineer would no doubt have a shit ton of calculations right on the spot where the three of them died by the car. The doctor on the other hand had knowledge of Nonna personally, the kind of information that made the Spy feel very vulnerable.

She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down. She had attempted suicide, she reminded herself. She was so out of her mind that she actually forgot about the Global Respawn she had been connected to for years. That was something that she would have to explain to her teammates though.

Whether she went back or not was an ongoing inner battle. In the meantime, she would not be leaving this office. As long as she was here, she did not have to face the consequences that the team would see fit for her, once they no doubt figured out what she had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this story. This one ends, but a new one begins. I'll update you on follow up stories for these characters.


End file.
